


How to Treat Your Lover - Book 4

by tamibrandt



Series: How to Treat Your Lover Saga [4]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-25
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:31:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 151,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamibrandt/pseuds/tamibrandt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)<br/>Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts.  Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 51

 

##  _Chapter 51: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 1)_

_Lorne handed Fred a bowl of mashed potatoes across a table set with a Thanksgiving feast. “Here you go darlin’.”_

_“Thanks,” she replied as she took the bowl._

_“You’re going to eat all that?” Gunn mused._

_“Until I’m fat and happy,” she quipped, taking a bite off a celery stick._

_“Hmm, these look good too,” Lorne commented as he passed another bowl around the table._

_“How about that stuffing?” Cordelia asked._

_“And these sweet potatoes,” Spike added. It was any wonder why Angel never took part in the consumption of human food. It doesn’t provide nourishment to a vampire, but neither does chocolate, but humans still ate that._

_“Oh, pass those over here, Spike,” Lorne said._

_Spike took a helping and passed the bowl to Lorne._

_“Back in Pylea they used to call me ‘sweet potato,” Lorne said._

_Spike raised a brow at that. “Really, I never would have guessed.”_

_“Yeah, well, the exact translation was ‘fragrant tuber’ but the sentiment was there,” Lorne added._

_The group chuckled. Cordelia turned to see Angel at the head of the table. He barely cracked a smile, and his plate was empty._

_“You’re not hungry?” she asked._

_“No! I’m starving. It’s just . . . I want to remember this moment. You – Spike – all of us – safe – and happy – and together. Considering what we went through these past few months.”_

_At the foot of the table, Wesley leaned forward and raised his glass in a toast. “To family.”_

_Angel raised his glass with a wide grin and the others followed suit as he echoed, “To family.”_

_“As long as it’s not mine,” Lorne added._

_Everyone laughed and clinked their glasses. Spike picked up a pitcher of water and poured into Angel’s glass._

_“Can’t toast with an empty glass, ponce,” Spike smirked._

_“It’s not bad luck, is it?” Angel asked worriedly._

_“Relax,” Cordelia assured him. “It’s over. Things are back to the way they should be and nothing is going to get between us again.”_

_“No Buffy. No Darla. No Holtz or that time traveling bloke,” Spike added._

_Angel leaned closer to him. “I’m sorry Will. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”_

_“It’s okay, Angel. We’re fine. Everything worked out in the end,” Spike said._

_Angel wanted to physically show Spike how sorry he was, but then remembered the table full of people and straightened up._

_“Let’s eat!”_

_“Rolls?” Fred suggested as she passed the bread basket._

_“Hmm. Those look good,” Gunn commented as he took one and passed it to Spike._

_Spike took one and passed it to Cordelia, missing Angel altogether._

_“Careful, those are hot,” Cordelia said as she took one and passed it to Lorne._

_The rest of the entrees were passed around, but somehow nothing ever came within Angel’s reach as everyone started to eat._

_“Can I get the, ah . . .” Angel started to say._

_“This is delicious,” Wesley commented as he ate._

_“Pass the carrots, please,” Fred asked._

_“It smells so good,” Cordelia remarked._

_When Fred snagged a green bean from him, Gunn smacked at her hand, “Hey, get your hands out of my plate.”_

_“Can I have the rolls?” Lorne asked as they were passed around._

_“Can someone pass the salt?” Wesley asked._

_Upon seeing her plate heaped with food, Fred looked queasy. “Kill me now before my stomach explodes from all this.”_

_“Here, try the gravy,” Cordelia suggested._

_“Yeah,” Lorne agreed as he took it from her. “Look, it even comes in a little boat.”_

_“Could I get that . . .” Angel said, snatching a platter as it passed by. He set it down on his empty plate only to discover it was the blood and marinade juices from the meat. There was nothing left. “Cordy, what . . . .” He moved his hand and accidentally knocked his wine glass on the floor, shattering it to pieces._

_“Now look what you’ve gone and done, ponce,” Spike commented._

_The warm festive light was replaced with a watery blue tint as Angel stared down and found his feet ankle-deep in water. His skin was pasty-white with various cracks. He glanced at the table and discovered it deserted and void of the meal._

_“Spike?”_

_Spike sat next to him, silent and motionless, staring at him. He was covered in healing burns and various other wounds._

At the bottom of the ocean, trapped in the metal coffin, Angel’s eyes suddenly snapped open and he screamed, “SPIKE!”

 

**************************

**_Aboard a cargo ship sailing between Africa and the California Coastline_ **

After the demon gave him his soul, Spike barely remembered several of the natives entering the cave to collect his body, put him into a wooden crate and stowing him on the ship. He couldn’t tell how long he’d been unconscious. All he knew was that he was in a wonderful dream, surrounded by his friends and mate, sharing a meal. That was, until the scene changed and Angel saw the wounds he’d gained from the demon trials.

_“SPIKE!”_ Angel’s scream echoed through his mind. Although he couldn’t rouse himself, Spike whispered in reply, “Angel.”

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_ **

Gunn entered the office where Fred sat at the desk searching the internet for the next clue in finding Angel and Cordelia.

“We’ve spent the last three months chasing one dead end after another trying to find Angel and Cordy, and the only thing we’re closing in on is an eviction. Be a whole lot easier to handle this shit if Lorne was pitching in or Spike came back. Where did Spike go anyway? And where is our future-reading empath demon when we need him?” Gunn ranted.

“Mr. Big-hit-in-Vegas is too busy Danke Schon-ing the tourists to care about us,” Fred replied.

“Did you try him again?”

“Like sixty times. He’s lost the mission, bro,” Fred replied.

“Well, we’re about to lose this whole place and you know you can’t bro – all right? You need to start hustling up some paying clients.”

“We will,” Fred nodded. “As soon as I find Marissa.” As an afterthought she looked up and asked, “Can I say dawg?”

Gunn gave her an incredulous look. She turned back to her laptop. “Oh, this looks good. Condemned tenement on Figueroa, this could be her.”

“Evil Dead was probably just messing with us, and even if she’s there, not much chance she knows anything,” Gunn grumbled.

“Angel’s car was found down by the bluffs. That used to be her feeding ground. She might be able to tell us what happened – if we can find her,” Fred explained.

 

**************************

_The ocean waves broke against the shore at the bottom of the bluff, sending up plumes of white spray. Angel turned away from the view to find Spike leaning against the hood of his car, waiting for him. He was dressed in his normal black attire, but his blonde hair was longer and the dark roots were starting to grow out._

_“Spike, you’re here,” Angel sounded surprised. “I thought you took off to parts unknown.”_

_“We’re tied to each other. I’m with you no matter where we are,” Spike said cryptically. He looked out towards the black ocean. “Nice spot to think about things.”_

_Angel turned back to the view to see what Spike saw. “Yeah. I came here to sort some things out in my head.”_

_He frowned as a quick flash of his fight with Holtz disturbed the serene atmosphere before him._

_“This wasn’t the way it happened. You weren’t here before,” Angel said distractedly. Another flash of he and Holtz fighting flickered before his eyes._

_“Holtz came to settle the score,” Spike said behind him._

_Angel turned around to look at his mate. “How did you know?”_

_Spike shook a cigarette out of his crumpled pack, wrapped his lips around the filter and pulled the cigarette free of the cellophane. Tossing the pack next to him on the hood and lit the cigarette. He took a long drag and let the smoke out in a slow exhale._

_“I don’t know firsthand, ponce. This is your memory, not mine,” Spike scoffed._

_“Holtz was here. He . . .”_

_There was a flash of Holtz using the Tazer on Angel._

_“You can’t change the past, Angel. You can just move on,” Spike said._

_Angel blinked and saw that Spike stood beside him now, looking out at the ocean. The cigarette was gone. He wondered if he would ever see Spike again. And if this was his memory, then why didn’t William show up now?_

_“Because William is in the past,” Spike replied, answering his thought. “I’m not him anymore than you’re Liam. We’ll see each other again. You may have kicked me out of the hotel. But not out of your life. That’s the bitch of being mated for an eternity. It really means a bloody eternity.”_

_Angel tentatively reached his hand out to touch Spike’s face. He was afraid the younger vampire would disappear on him. Spike leaned into the touch._

_“I miss you, baby boy. If we ever see each other again . . .” Angel started to say._

_“We will.” This version of Spike sounded all too casual, like he knew something Angel didn’t._

_Angel dropped his hand and looked out at the ocean once more. When he turned back to Spike, the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. Spike was bare-chested and covered in blackened wounds as if he’d been burned._

Angel woke up screaming in his watery grave. He tried to break loose from his bonds, but they were too tight. He went into hysterics, banging his head against the bottom of the metal coffin that was his prison.

 

**************************

**_Aboard the cargo ship_ **

Spike’s eyes sprang open when he heard the echoes of Angel’s scream. He felt around in the darkness only to lay a hand on the wood encasing him. He pounded on the lid of the crate, but something was sitting on top of it. He was trapped. He sensed that Angel was in the same situation.

“ANGEL!” Spike screamed. The only response he received was the squeaking of rats as they scurried around in the dark.

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_ **

“We don’t even know if this Marissa girl saw anything,” Gunn said.

“Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. That’s why we’re going to talk to her and find out. The worst thing that happens is that she didn’t see anything and we can add that lead to long list of dead ones we already have, right?” Fred replied.

“No, the worst thing is, we go there and she sets us up to be killed or drains us herself,” Gunn corrected, hefting his axe.

Fred gave him a skeptical look. “You’re a Big Bad Vampire Hunter, you can take on one vampire.”

“What if all Vampirella saw was sand and seaweed? This is it, Fred. There’s no Angel, no Cordy. We can’t find Holtz. His psycho girlfriend’s gone. Spike’s disappeared. We got nothing,” Gunn said.

“There’s still Wolfram & Hart,” Fred suggested.

“Right,” Gunn replied mockingly. “We just stroll into their heavily-guarded law offices and ask Lilah, the evil bitch-queen, for help in finding out what happened to their archenemy, but . . . we’re kind of broke, so it’ll have to be pro bono.”

“I didn’t say it would be easy,” Fred shot back.

“Try impossible,” Gunn cut in. “They’re too big. Without Angel we can’t afford to piss them off.”

“Maybe we should think about asking . . .” Fred asked.

“NO,” Gunn barked.

Taken aback by Gunn’s tone, Fred replied, “Well, I’m glad we talked that over.”

Gunn calmed down and explained, “We already asked him for help twice.”

“Then we’ll ask him again,” Fred said adamantly.

“Fred, Wesley doesn’t give a damn about us.”

“Have we given him a reason to?” she asked defensively.

“He’s made his choice. Now he has to live with it,” Gunn said with a tone of finality and walked out of the office.

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment_ **

Wesley’s bedroom floor was a disarray of clothes, shoes and stiletto heels. The bed sheets were a tangled mess around two sweaty bodies. Lilah Morgan sank down from her perch atop an equally sweaty and naked Wesley.

Lilah’s lips twisted into a Cheshire grin. Spike was right: he may not have been any help to her, but a former Watcher who had been excommunicated from his own group of do-gooders did wonders for her sex drive.

“Hmmm,” Lilah groaned in relaxation as she stretched. “That didn’t suck.” She rolled closer to her companion. “Well, maybe just a little bit.”

“Perhaps that is something we can expand on next time,” Wesley said huskily.

Lilah smirked, “What makes you think there will be a next time?”

“Because you can’t resist me,” he growled as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

Lilah suddenly pulled Wesley’s head back by his hair and sucked on his ear lobe before whispering, “I think you have that backwards.”

Lilah rolled away from him and slipped out of bed. Wesley raised his head and watched her with predatory eyes. “Where are you going?”

She looked at him over her shoulder as she dressed. “Snack break’s over. Time I get back to work.”

Wesley put his hand behind his head as he watched her dress. His semi-erection was enjoying the show. “Wolfram & Hart does its best work after dark.”

“Sun’s bad for your complexion,” Lilah retorted as she buttoned her shirt. “Just ask Angel. Oh, right. You can’t, because of the whole ‘wanting to smother you with a pillow’ thing.”

“One wouldn’t think that setting Spike up to take the fall would have such a negative effect on our friendship,” Wesley pondered casually.

“You thought you were doing the right thing,” Lilah mused as she slipped her stilettos on. “I hear that can be confusing. Have you tried talking to him? Maybe when he gets back you can --”

Wesley laughed mirthlessly.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“I have no idea where Angel is, Lilah. I don’t know what happened to him, and I really couldn’t care.”

“Wow that was cold.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I think we’re finally making progress. Come on. Doesn’t it bother you just a little bit – the not knowing?”

“That part of my life is dead. It doesn’t concern me anymore,” Wesley said impassively.

“No, it doesn’t,” Lilah agreed.

She leaned closer for a quick kiss goodbye, but Wesley laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her back for deeper kiss. After a moment, Lilah pulled away and Wesley watched her get up and walk out of the room. As soon as he heard the door close, Wesley pulled on a pair of jeans and walked over to unlock the deadbolt on the closet door. He swung the door open to cage made of metal bars lining the walls, a bound and gagged Justine sat on her knees inside.

“It’s time,” Wesley told his captive. “We’re going for a boat ride.”

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Middle of the Pacific Ocean_ **

Wesley was at the helm of a small boat as it glided across the dark ocean. Behind him, Justine stood several feet away, glaring daggers at her captor’s back as she rubbed the circulation back into her formerly bound wrists.

“So, what’s it going to be tonight, captain?” she asked snidely. “Bicycle, old tire, or maybe we’ll get _real_ lucky and catch us a nice shopping cart. Here’s a wacky thought: why don’t you swim down there yourself?”

Wesley ignored her completely. He flipped a switch and looked down at the radar screen. “No contact. We’ll try the next grid.” He walked over to the map laid out on the table beside Justine and crossed out their current position and assessed the next portion of the grid.

“Do you really think finding Angel is going to change anything?” Justine sneered.

“Everything changes,” Wesley replied, acknowledging her presence for the first time since they set sail.

“Well, I guess anything is better than sitting around in my cage all day with nothing to do but fill my bucket,” she replied.

Perhaps you should have considered that before slitting my throat,” Wesley stated casually as he walked back to the helm.

“The _great_ Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, the shining beacon of all that’s good and pure,” Justine defined. She let out a false gasp of shock. “But wait, no! That’s before he started banging the enemy and keeping a slave-girl in his closet.”

“You were always a slave, Justine,” Wesley replied. “You just couldn’t see the chains.”

“Thanks, Swami,” Justine held her hands up in prayer. “I’ll meditate on that.”

“Do you think she would be disappointed?” Wesley asked cryptically.

“Who?”

“Your sister; that’s where it all began, isn’t it?” Wesley asked. “Sister murdered by a vampire, consumed by a need for revenge?”

Justine spun around and glared at him. “For justice!”

“Is that what you call it?”

“Angel got what he deserved.”

“We all get what we deserve,” Wesley agreed. “You and Holtz deserved each other. You two had so much in common: pain, loss, deep-seated lack of anything approaching humor.”

“I don’t know. We had a few laughs,” Justine mused. “Getting you to walk Spike right into an ambush? That was a good one.”

“Better than killing Holtz at his behest only to toss his dead body overboard a few miles from where you dumped Angel?”

Justine glowered, genuinely saddened by the loss of her mentor.

“Not much of a plan, was it? Made it easy to figure out which door to kick in when Angel went missing. Not much harder to persuade you to betray everything Holtz had given his life for. Not that it was worth very much.” Wesley shrugged. “Well, you should know. You’re the one who ended it.”

In retaliation to Wesley’s stinging words, Justine grabbed a wrench off the table. She raised her arm, ready to swing it at the back of Wesley’s head when his voice stopped her motion.

“I’ll take your bucket away,” he threatened without turning to see what she was doing.

Justine glared daggers at his back before tossing the wrench back on the table.

 

**************************

_Spike watched the city lights from the rooftop of the Hyperion Hotel. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out in a long, slow breath. He knew, physically, he was still stuck in a crate on a ship somewhere in the Pacific. But, here he was home. He didn’t really care for L.A. at the end of the Decade of Love and Peace and Timothy Leary fanatics. He wasn’t much for the sheep mentality. He could barely stand the vampire lore, when he was fledge and forced to come before The Master that one and only time. Things did not go smoothly, suffice it to say._

_The drugged-out humans were useful if the vampire wanted a good high, but for the most part, it was disgusting. Luckily, he got out of there before the Punk and then the eighties’ glam scene ruled the fashion. However, he hit Seattle just as flannel was all the rage. That fashion gave him nightmares for years afterward._

_“Beautiful night isn’t it?” a voice asked behind him._

_“The way it should be,” Spike replied. He turned to face Angel who stood several feet away._

_“Why are you here?” Angel asked._

_“It’s my home,” Spike replied._

_“Is it?”_

_“Wherever you are is my home, Angel,” Spike said as he took another drag._

_“I’m not going anywhere,” Angel said cryptically._

_“Looks like we’re stuck with each other then,” Spike replied._

_When Spike looked into the distance over his shoulder, Angel turned to see a group of vampires come towards him. He turned back to Spike as the blonde tossed his cigarette on the ground and ground it out with his boot. Spike glanced over at him and they shared a knowing look._

_Angel and Spike fell into fighting stance as one, long-remembered choreographed move as the vampires attacked. They both turned to see that each had the other’s back. One of the vampires used the distraction to attack Angel’s blindside with a stake. When Spike yelled his name, Angel batted the stake aside and they ended up in brawl with the vampires._

_Spike dusted two of them with their own stake. He turned to see Angel’s progress: the elder vampire in a fight with one vampire while two others tried to attack from behind. Raising the stake in his hand, Spike tossed it in a jack-knife throw into the back of one of Angel’s assailants, dusting him and ran towards the other one. He grabbed the vampire by the shoulder, spun him around and slugged him across the jaw. Spike and the vampire traded blows while Angel dealt with his own adversary. Just as Angel dusted him, Spike threw the vampire over the side of the building._

_Angel grinned at Spike. “Thanks, baby boy. It’s good to see you still favor a good brawl.”_

_When Spike turned away from watching the vampire fall to his death on a wood pile below to look at him, Angel gasped in shock. Spike’s face and chest were covered in charred wounds. It looked as if he’d been skinned and burned in various places. His beautiful boy was scarred. It almost brought tears to Angel’s eyes at the thought of what could have happened to Spike._

He woke up screaming, straining against his bonds of his underwater prison.

 

**************************

**_Aboard the cargo ship_ **

Spike’s eyes sprang open when he heard the echoes of Angel’s scream. He punched the side of the crate until the wood split and broke away. Kicking the shards out of the way, Spike slid out of the opening and collapsed on the floor of the cargo hold. A minute later, the weight of the crate on top of his prison dropped on the damaged crate.

Spike immediately shifted into his demon to see in the dark. He could hear the ocean waves under the boat, the mice skittering away and the yelling of the ship’s crew above him. He carefully made his way around the storage crates until he found the locked door. He busted the lock and opened the door. His mind filled with the resonance of Angel’s distant screaming. Spike forced himself to put aside his own turmoil for the task at hand. He had to find a way to get back to L.A. and locate his mate.

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart, night_ **

“Did you find Angel?” Lilah asked as she fell into step with Linwood and Gavin as they strolled down the hallway.

“Young Gavin,” Linwood gestured to the man beside him with a wave of his hand, “Had a breakthrough with the psychics.”

“The brain boys are finally earning their keep,” Lilah smirked. “So, where is he?”

“Well, I haven’t pinpointed his exact location yet, but I have ascertained that he’s safe and immobilized,” Gavin assured her with a smirk of his own, proud of his accomplishment.

“Really?” Lilah raised a brow. “Maybe you can lead them in a rousing chant and get them to a muster up a little more vague.”

“He’s contained and out of play. Which suits our purposes just fine,” Linwood announced.

“If our purpose is to get caught with our prophecies down,” Lilah shot back. “Angel is supposed to be a major player in the apocalypse. You remember that, right? It’s the little pet project the Senior Partners have been working on since, oh, _the beginning of time_?” She glared at Gavin. He was a cheap imitation of Lindsey and not nearly as fun. “Three months and all _you’ve_ been able to ferret out is – nothing!”

“Beg to differ,” Linwood broke in. “Gavin’s work with the psychics has uncovered some invaluable insights in a variety of unexpected areas. Would you care to enlighten us?”

Lilah knew this day would come when she started her affair with Wesley. However, she was more annoyed than she thought she’d be. “What I do on my _personal_ time is none of _Gavin’s_ business.”

“But, everything is my business,” Linwood reminded her.

“I’m not sleeping with him for information.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s the chiseled jaw,” Linwood scoffed. “If you have his confidence then we can play it to our advantage.”

“He doesn’t know anything,” Lilah replied. “There’s nothing to take advantage of.”

“Except you,” Linwood almost sounded disappointed in her. “There’s a staff meeting in an hour. Don’t be late.” He signaled to Gavin to follow him as he walked away.

Lilah watched as Linwood and Gavin entered the elevator and then walked in the opposite direction towards her office.

 

**************************

Wesley looked at the radar screen when it beeped. “Solid contact, definitely metallic,” he announced.

“Probably more junk, could be anything down there,” Justine shot back.

“Better have a look then,” Wesley said as he tossed a diving mask to her.

Wesley waited on deck as Justine swam below the surface to investigate. He had to find Angel. If he did that, maybe it would make up for what he had done to Spike. He wasn’t looking to be in the good graces of the demon that tried to smother him with a pillow. But, just maybe it would lend some measure of atonement on his part.

Several minutes later, Justine resurfaced. When she gave an affirmative nod, he lowered the cable where she could grab it and guide it down to the coffin. He thought about the past few months while the cable continued to roll out. It was a week or so of fucking Lilah before she told him Angel and Cordelia had disappeared. He set up his own investigation to figure out what happened to them. He had gone so far until he hit a road block that stopped at the nether world where no living thing could cross, which was another reason to rescue Angel. As for the vampire himself, it didn’t take Wesley long to track Justine down. It wasn’t like she’d hid very well. When he’d figured out what she’d done to Holtz, it was easy to manipulate her into this search for Angel. She had just enough guilt to play on.

Justine resurfaced again and climbed back onto the deck. Wesley set the lever in reverse and they watched as the hoist hauled the coffin out of the depths of the ocean and on board the small boat.

When the coffin finally set down, Wesley lit a blow torch and burned through the welds that secured the sidebars. Setting the blow torch aside, he moved to one end of the coffin. “Justine, come on.”

He slid the bars out and then he and Justine lifted the lid off the coffin. Wesley cut through the steel cables that held Angel immobile.

“Congratulations,” Justine sneered. “You’re the _big_ hero. Maybe your friends will throw you a party. I wonder what the cake will look --”

Justine was rendered speechless when, suddenly, Angel’s hand shot up and grabbed Wesley by the throat. Angel’s eyes snapped opened. His brow furrowed as his eyes focused on Wesley. Gently, Wesley took hold of Angel’s hand and pulled it away to lay it back down on his chest. He hauled Angel out of the coffin and laid him on the table. Angel’s skin was white and cracked from a lack of nourishment.

When Wesley pulled out a couple of glass jars of dark liquid, Justine inquired, “Blood?”

“Animal,” Wesley corrected as he lifted Angel’s head and tried to get him to drink some of it.

“What’s the hurry? It’s not like he’s going anywhere,” Justine said derisively.

“A vampire can exist indefinitely without feeding, but the damage to the higher brain functions from prolonged starvation can be catastrophic,” Wesley explained. When Angel started to cough, Wesley urged, “Slowly.”

“All that energy you’ve wasted to save that thing. For what, a happy ending? For everything to be like it was? He _hates_ you. They all do. And they’re never going to take you back,” Justine said, driving the knife deeper with her cutting remarks.

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_ **

Fred and Gunn were in the lobby huddled around the reception desk when the phone rang.

“Are you going to get that or should I?” Fred asked.

“Let it ring,” Gunn said disinterestedly. They hadn’t had a good lead on Angel and Cordelia or a case in months. Why should now be any different?

“What if it’s a client?” Fred asked.

Gunn blindly reached over and picked up the phone. “Angel Investigations.”

 

**************************

_Angel lay on the table in the cabin of Wesley’s boat. A rolled blanket was under his head and another covered his body._

_“Why is it like this?” Angel pondered aloud._

_“It’ll change, Angel. It always does,” Spike replied._

_His fingers caressed his Sire’s palm as he slipped his hand into Angel’s. Angel squeezed it to reassure himself that Spike was there._

_“Life should be beautiful and bright. No matter how hard I try, everything I touch turns to ashes,” Angel said._

_“I haven’t died. You kicked me out of the hotel. I had to leave to prove that I can be a better man – demon,” Spike corrected him._

“How is he?” Wesley asked as he came down the stairs.

“He won’t shut up,” Justine replied.

“I have to stop him,” Angel said to himself. He had to find a way to get Spike back. His boy left to prove a point. His mind was too foggy to pinpoint Spike’s current location. When he tried, all he saw was pitch black. There was nothing.

Wesley walked up to the table. “Angel?”

“I have to do it,” Angel said to himself. He tried to get up, but Wesley put stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Shh, you need to rest now,” Wesley soothed.

“I need Spike,” Angel stressed as his head rolled to the side. He caught sight of Justine. The bitch that stuck him in that box, the one that helped Holtz complete his revenge. “I should have killed you.”

Wesley looked at Angel as Justine backed away from the incapacitated vampire as much as the cabin and the handcuff around her wrist, shackling her to the wall, allowed.

“He’s been down there too long. Pig’s blood isn’t enough. He needs more substantial nourishment,” Wesley surmised.

“Like what?” she asked hesitantly. Her eyes became saucers when Wesley turned to her with a knife in his hand. “Fuck you! I’m not feeding that thing.”

“Your blood’s too thin,” Wesley commented.

It could have been read as an insult if it actually mattered, but Justine didn’t care about the vampire Wesley was trying to save. His kind killed her sister. All vampires should be eradicated from the world. It didn’t matter if they had souls or were fighting for good. Vampires were evil.

She watched with disgust as Wesley used the knife to cut his inner forearm and held it over the vampire’s mouth. She thought she’d be sick when Angel gripped Wesley’s arm to hold him still and drank the blood that flowed out of the cut. He was too weak to slip into his demon.

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_ **

Lilah had arrived early for the staff meeting. She’d spent a good part of a half hour putting her surprise into place. She stood behind Linwood’s high-backed chair inspecting the device to make sure it was well hidden and wouldn’t be detected when the other members came in. If Mr. Suvarta, one of the Senior Partners, hadn’t agreed with her proposal, she never would have had the confidence to pull something like this off. She smiled to herself. That was what made her the best at her job. Lindsey MacDonald may have been the company’s golden child, but she had conned her way to the top with better schemes, and Lindsey had ran back home with his tail between his legs.

When the latch clicked and the door opened, Lilah moved to a seat halfway down the table as the other staff members too their seats.

“All right, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, so let’s get to it,” Linwood announced as he walked in with Gavin Park following him like an obedient puppy. “Let’s talk about . . . Lilah,” he pointed glared at her and then glanced at the other members. “Has everybody had a chance to review her file?” When everyone nodded, he gave them a cruel smile. “Good. Any recommendations?”

Lilah weakly raised her hand. “If I could just have a few minutes to explain . . .”

“I think your record speaks for itself,” Gavin said smugly.

“Volumes,” Linwood agreed. “Your failures at Wolfram & Hart outstrip your successes by an uncomfortable margin. Perhaps you would fair better at a less central office?”

“One of the third-world dimensions maybe,” Gavin suggested with a conceited tone.

Lilah was starting to have second thoughts about where she put that device. Just for spite’s sake, she should have added one behind Gavin’s chair as well and killed two birds with one stone. For now, she would have to be satisfied with the current plan.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“What was that?” Linwood asked.

Clearing her throat, she said louder, “I said: I’m sorry. I’ve made mistakes, but _fear_ has never been one of them.”

“Is there something you would like to share?” Linwood prompted.

“Why haven’t we done anything in locating the vampire’s mate and using him to our advantage? Or one of his other team members?” Lilah asked pointedly.

“We’re assessing our options in that department,” Linwood answered.

“The same way you’re assessing _Angel_? Then, why aren’t we trying to pinpoint Angel’s location?” Lilah shot back.

Tired of questions he didn’t have answers for, Linwood barked, “Lilah! This is _my_ corner of the sky. _I_ decide when the sun rises and when it sets. Lack of long-term vision has always been one of your shortcomings.”

Lilah stood up with a palm-pilot and stylus in her hand. Looking directly at her boss, she replied, “And lack of courage has always been one of yours. You’re afraid – of Angel and Spike. You don’t know anything about his connection to Angel. That’s the reason for your daring strategy of ‘wait and see’, isn’t it? You have no clue what Spike’s stake in Angel’s life or the apocalypse is.”

“And you do?” Linwood asked.

“He and I had drinks,” Lilah said cryptically. Linwood didn’t need to know that the meeting was fruitless. “But you’re afraid to find out and fear breeds weakness.”

“Oh,” Linwood said sadly. “I’m hurt. Is that _really_ what you think of me?”

“Yes, and Mr. Suvarta agrees with me.”

“You spoke to a Senior Partner?” Linwood asked in genuine surprise.

“Yes, he was really very helpful. He had some great hints on office furniture.”

“This is outrageous!” Linwood said angrily. “Are you actually telling me that you went over my head?”

Lilah used the stylus to press a button on her palm-pilot. There was an electronic beep just before a blade boomeranged out of the backrest on Linwood’s chair, slicing neatly through his neck.

“Just under it, actually,” Lilah commented to her boss’s stunned face.

Linwood’s head, with the fixed staring eyes, tumbled forward and rolled down the table. Gavin was too shocked for words as he stared at his mentor’s head.

“Mr. Suvarta didn’t think Linwood’s sky was sunny enough. You’re all reporting to me now.” Lilah sat down again. “Get out.”

As everyone tried to quickly and quietly get up and file out of the room without upsetting their new boss, Lilah’s voice stopped the one trying to scurry out of the room without being noticed.

“Gavin.”

He froze in mid-step. Lilah gave him a slight smile as she gestured towards the decapitated head with her stylus. “Please, remove that.”

Gavin gulped at the idea of touching a dead body at all. When he took this job, he agreed to ethics violations and back stabbing schemes. He didn’t agree to body disposal. He was a lawyer, not a garbage collector. Isn’t this why they owned the city crew?

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Point Dume_ **

Wesley opened the car door and settled Angel in the passenger seat. Angel’s face was pale and cracked from lack of nourishment for the past three months. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Wesley.

“He’ll turn on you!” Justine yelled behind them.

Ignoring her, Wesley closed the passenger door and walked around to get behind the wheel.

“He won’t be able to help it. That’s what he is. Sooner or later he will turn on you and all your friends!” Justine threatened. She was handcuffed to a railing. She glared daggers at Wesley who ignored her as he buckled his seatbelt and started the engine.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” Justine asked.

Wesley held up the keys to the cuffs before tossing them at her feet. “You can continue to be a slave, Justine – or you can live your life. It’s your choice.” With that, Wesley drove away, leaving Justine behind.

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_ **

Fred and Gunn rushed out of the manager’s office when they heard the lobby doors open. What greeted them was Wesley helping Angel down the steps. “I believe you’re looking for this,” Wesley said.

Angel raised his head and looked at them.

Fred stopped in her tracks. He was barely recognizable. There were cracks in his gray skin from lack of nourishment.

“Angel?” Fred inquired cautiously.

Gunn hurried over to help Wesley lead Angel to the settee.

“Oh my God,” Fred’s feet finally decided to work, and she stumbled over to sit next to Angel. She made a cursory check of his skin to locate any wounds, but found nothing.

“Is he going to be all right?” Gunn asked as he looked at Angel. The vampire looked like death warmed over a thousand times.

“In time, maybe,” Wesley said disinterestedly.

Angel’s head rolled to the side against the headrest.

“He’s out of it,” Gunn commented.

“Oh God,” Fred was still shocked by Angel’s appearance. This was not the same man that saved her in Pylea.

“It’s okay, Fred,” Gunn reassured her, not even believing his words.

“Look at him!” Fred said anxiously.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Angel slowly looked up at them. He could feel their eyes on him. He didn’t need to see them to feel Fred’s distress at his appearance or Gunn’s uncertainty as to whether he could recuperate from being malnourished for so long.

Wesley started to back away from them.

“What do we do? Wesley . . .” Fred started to say. Angel’s eyes slid shut again. When she didn’t receive an answer, she turned to see Wesley trying to sneak out the door. “Where are you going?”

Wesley stopped and looked at her. “I’m done here.”

“You really don’t care anymore, do you?” Fred accused.

Wesley’s only response was to walk towards the door, saying, “He’ll need more blood. I’m fresh out.”

With that, the door closed behind Wesley, leaving Gunn and Fred to deal with Angel’s emaciated condition themselves.

“God, he’s freezing,” Fred said.

“I’ll go get some blankets,” Gunn said and left. He came back with an armful of blankets and wrapped them around Angel while Fred went to the kitchen to heat up some blood.

When Angel could find his voice again, the first word out of his mouth was, “Spike.”

“Shh, Angel,” Gunn said as he tried his best to get the vampire warmed up.

Fred came back and sat beside Angel, holding the cup for him as he sipped the blood. He pushed the cup away and tried again, “Where’s Spike?”

“Not here, man. He’s been gone for as long as you have,” Gunn replied.

“Wesley told me everything that’s been going on,” Angel said. “He said Cordelia went missing the same night I did. What happened to her?”

“We don’t know,” Fred replied. “You need to rest, Angel.”

“I need Spike . . . and we need to find Cordy. Wherever she is, whatever she’s going through, we need to find her,” Angel said. He touched his forehead, trying to slip into Spike’s mind, but it was still too dark. “Spike, where are you?”

 

**************************

**_Los Angeles Harbor_ **

Spike fell over the side of the boat as it neared the pier. No one on deck seemed to notice the splash. He swam to shore and climbed up the bank. The screams of his victims resounded in his mind. It was almost impossible to block them out, but he couldn’t succumb to the voices yet. He had to make it home to Angel first. Now if he could only remember how far away the hotel was.

Spike slunk through back alleys and the sewers until he reached the tunnel that led to the Hyperion Hotel. He barely remembered climbing up the ladder and crawling inside the basement. One minute he was trudging through dirty sewer water, the next he was huddled in the far corner of the basement, curled in a fetal position with his arms around his head, listening to the terrified screams in his head.

_If there was only somehow, some way, someone to **make it stop**!_


	2. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 52: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 2)_

_A sixteen-year-old girl screamed as she ran through the cottage. She found her parents being murdered in the living room when she came home from a friend’s house. There was a man crouched over the body of her mother. He had long, dirty-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and wore a brown duster. He didn’t realize she was there until she let out a startled gasp. His head jerked up then. What she saw made her scream and she took off at a run. She could hear his footfalls as he chased after her._

_The girl ran to her bedroom and slammed the door just as he reached her. She locked the door and rushed to her bed, crawling under the covers. She peeked out from under them and looked frightened at the door. There was no sound on the other side. Not taking any chances, she scurried out of bed and hid in the closet. Maybe if she didn’t breathe, her clothes didn’t rustle, the monster would disappear. If she just waited until daylight, this would all be a nightmare and she would wake up to find her parents in the kitchen drinking coffee._

_If she could just stay perfectly still for the next twelve hours, everything will be all right._

 _ __She let out a gasp when she heard banging on the door. The sound rang in her ears until the door burst open and the blonde monster stalked inside. She screamed when he grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her on the bed._ __

__

Spike’s eyes snapped open just as he took a chunk out of the girl’s neck. He found himself curled into a ball and shivering on the basement floor of the Hyperion Hotel with no memory of how he’d gotten there. 

It didn’t seem to matter. None of it did. Whether he was awake or asleep all he saw were images of those he’d killed for the pleasure of it. _Want, take, have_ , that’s what Angelus had taught him. He’d reveled in it, enjoyed it. The pleasure he took in their deaths haunted him. Was this what it was like to have a soul? If he remembered right, Angel’s curse was to remember each of his victims, never to know a moment of true happiness. Was that what the demon did? Did the demon curse him with a soul? Was he never to know happiness again? 

Distant sounds from above caught Spike’s attention. There were people in the hotel. He willed the screams in his head to stop so that he could concentrate. There was something about Cordelia missing and acquiring a mystical object to find her. The object was worth thirty-three million dollars on the black market, and needing grappling hooks and aerosols to break into an auction house to get it. 

When all seemed quiet, Spike crept up the basement steps and opened the door. There was no one in the lobby. In fact, his preternatural senses told him that the entire hotel was deserted. He walked around the lobby, trying to re-familiarize himself with the place. The images that came to mind moistened his eyes. All the times he spent in this room with Angel and the others. The Christmas mishap with the enchanted mistletoe; the kisses he shared with Angel; the romps they had on the stairs as they raced each other to the kitchen in an attempt to be the first to get blood; the erotic moments as they drove each other to distraction. 

There were other scenes too: scenes of them fighting over Darla before Spike left and went back to Sunnydale; his agitation when Cordelia pumped Angel for his feelings on losing Buffy; his anger when Angel discovered that Buffy had been brought back and chased after her again. 

All those memories and more tied him to this hotel, his Sire’s lair. 

Spike’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that he’d eaten only enough to sustain himself in past weeks. He went into the kitchen and nicked a blood packet from the refrigerator. He popped the bag in the microwave and punched in the time. 

_“Why did you do it?”_

_Spike looked over and saw a woman dressed in nineteenth-century garb. She was out of place in his Sire’s kitchen._

_“Why did you kill me, William? What did I do to deserve such a gruesome fate?”_

_“I’m sorry,” he whispered._

_With that she disappeared._

Spike blinked and looked around. He was the only one in the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes and willed the impending headache to go away. The phantoms of his past were driving him as crazy as Drusilla. Spike got the blood packet out of the microwave and shifted to his demon to puncture a hole in the bag with his fangs before drinking it. 

**************************

__

Several hours later Spike was crouched in the basement with several empty blood packets strewn on the floor around him. After the first one, he couldn’t seem to get enough. He stopped drinking from the last packet when he heard voices in the hotel again. There was the voice of Angel asking about the missing blood, Fred and Gunn confirming they knew nothing about it, and then more information about Cordelia’s disappearance. Apparently, they’d gotten hold of the mystical relic – an Axis of Pythia – and used it to find the seer. Angel had found her surrounded by light made up of pure joy. Something Spike himself had never felt before, not while he was a demon anyway. 

Then he heard Angel’s voice, full of longing and sorrow. _“All those months under the water, I kept thinking to myself: I got to get home . . . to Cordelia so we can find Spike. I get back and find out she’s gone. I keep thinking: I got to get Cordelia back home. Finally, I find her and I realize she already is home. Now that I know she is where she belongs, I can focus on finding Spike. Every time I try to slip into his mind, it’s dark.”_

Spike sighed. He couldn’t open his mind to Angel. For one thing, he couldn’t break past the nightmarish memories to try. For another, he didn’t want Angel to stumble upon them. It was bad enough that they were swimming around his head. He didn’t want to know what Angel thought of his past and the carnage he’d wrought. It didn’t matter that Angel was once the Scourge of Europe. Spike’s horrific memories were his own. He didn’t want to burden his Sire with them. 

**************************

A week later, Spike heard them leave again. He heard Gunn say something about them finally going to Las Vegas. When the coast was clear, he made his way out of the basement and into the kitchen for another stash of blood bags. It was his only sustenance next to the few rats he caught in the basement. His victims’ screams still echoed in his head as if he were in the process of murdering them now. Occasionally, he would see ghosts of his past kills. They always asked him why he chose them, what did they do to deserve the ultimate sacrifice at his hands? Not that he ever had an adequate answer for them. 

He had just pulled a blood packet out of the microwave and was about to bite into it when he heard voices again. On silent feet he moved closer to the doorway and tried to remain hidden from view. 

He was surprised to see Cordelia standing in the center of the lobby dressed in white. She wasn’t there when he came in a few minutes ago. Angel had stopped in his tracks on the entrance steps as Gunn and Fred came in behind him and stopped short by the sight as well. 

“Cordelia?” Angel inquired, shocked to see his long-lost friend standing in his lobby. 

Cordelia looked at all three of them strangely. “Who are you people?” 

“My God!” Angel exclaimed as he rushed down the entrance steps. “It’s you. You’re back.” He stopped his advancement when she backed away from him. “Don’t you remember? I’m Angel.” When he got no response or even a glimmer of recognition from her, he addressed Gunn and Fred, “Um, you see her too, right? I’m not just --” 

“No, man, it’s real,” Gunn replied in equal disbelief. 

Angel nodded and addressed Cordelia, “It’s okay. We’re friends. You know us. This is Fred and Gunn. You’re dazed or something must – Thank God you’re back!” 

“So, we know each other?” Cordelia asked. 

“Yeah, really well,” Angel replied as he cautiously stepped closer. 

“Okay, um . . . who am I?” Cordelia inquired. 

“What do you remember?” Angel asked. 

“I don’t know. Numbers. Animals. Flossing,” she replied. 

“But not us?” 

“Or me. I don’t remember me.” 

“You’re Cordelia Chase. You work here – with us. You’ve been gone for a while, but you’re safe now.” He took another tentative step towards her, but she took a step back. “It’s okay. We’re-we’re friends. We’re here to help you.” 

“I’ve been gone?” she asked confused. 

“What’s important is that you’re back,” Angel said trying to sound optimistic. 

Spike watched the scene play out from his vantage point in the hallway leading to the kitchen. He couldn’t see Gunn or Fred for the pillar in the way, but he could see Cordelia’s back and Angel facing her. He remembered Cordelia. He remembered them all. His condition didn’t give him amnesia like Cordelia apparently had. He peered from around the corner and watched Angel. His Sire looked exhausted. He remembered the shared dreams. Angel had been somewhere too. Wasn’t it ironic that all three of them showed up around the same time? He knew where he had been. But, where did Cordelia and Angel go? 

He desperately wanted to go out there and show Angel that he was back. He wanted to bury himself in his Sire and tell him everything he’d done and been through. He wanted to show him that he could be an equal. But, the memories of his past deeds kept him rooted to the spot. 

_William is a bad man._

As if she heard his thoughts, Cordelia turned in his direction. He quickly stepped out of sight. He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed and listened to the discussion. 

“Are there other people here?” Cordelia asked as she moved around the lobby. Nothing appeared familiar at all. 

“Um, not to sound all ‘Movie of the Week’,” Fred spoke up as she and Gunn followed Cordelia. “But, I think you might have some kind of amnesia. Like maybe you fell and banged your head.” 

“Should we take her to a hospital?” Gunn suggested aloud. 

Cordelia rounded on him and looked at him as if she was a deer in headlights. “Hospital? I don’t need a --” her voice evened out from the frightened tone as she tried to be more polite. “Not yet, maybe later.” 

“I don’t think seeing a doctor will solve her problems,” Fred whispered to Gunn. 

Just then, Angel’s attention was caught by Lorne coming in from the courtyard. Hurriedly, he whispered, “Neither will seeing _green_.” Addressing Cordelia, he said almost cheerily, “You want to know what might help you remember? Seeing some of your things.” He gestured at Gunn with a nod of his head toward the entrance doors. “You want to check for her things _out in the garden_?” 

“On it,” Gunn replied. He made it outside and pushed Lorne out of sight before Cordelia noticed the demon. 

“Fred, you want to help me look in the office?” he nodded towards the manager’s office. 

“Sure!” Fred said. “Excuse us.” 

A perplexed Cordelia watched them disappear into the office. She looked around the room with one eye on them. She could see them in the picture window of the office. 

Inside the office, Angel and Fred were simulating a search for Cordelia’s things while they tossed ideas between each other on her reappearance. 

“That could have been a disaster,” Angel hissed. “Hi. Welcome back, you’re safe. By the way, there’s a green demon right behind you.” 

“Don’t you think we should tell her?” Fred asked. “I mean we **_do_** live in a world of demons and icky things. She’s bound to find out.” 

Angel continued to aimlessly rifle through papers on the desk. “Well, yeah, sure. But, I mean, let’s be smart. I want her to remember who **_I_** am before I freak her out with the whole ‘undead, drinks blood’ part of my resume.” 

“Angel, aren’t you curious about why she’s back?” Fred inquired uneasily. 

That gave Angel pause. “I hadn’t even thought – I was just so happy to see her. Why is she back?” 

“I don’t know,” Fred replied. “But if Cordelia’s been where I think she has, anything’s possible.” 

They both look through the window at the woman in question. She was looking around, looking very uncomfortable. She turned her head and saw them. They waved at her. 

“Okay,” Cordelia drawled. “That’s creepy.” She nearly tripped over something and looked down to see a bladed weapon on the floor. “So’s that.” 

Angel and Fred walked back in from the office. “Couldn’t really find anything of yours in the office,” Angel said. 

Cordelia backed away from him. “That’s okay.” Just then, the phone started to ring. After the third time, she said, “Shouldn’t someone answer that?” 

Angel took a step closer. “The machine will get it. You really don’t have to be afraid.” 

“Easy for you to say. I don’t know that. Don’t know you or this place . . .” 

The beep sounded on the answering machine. _“Hi. You’ve reached Angel Investigations. We can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks! And wait for the beep!”_

“But that voice – Oh, my God! It’s me,” Cordelia acknowledged. “I work here.” 

The machine beeped and a male voice spoke, _“Uh, yeah, this is Murray down at the spa. Listen, it’s after midnight, and uh, you better get down here. That demon broad is back. It looks like she’s going to try and hatch her blood-sucking little --”_

Angel gave an exaggerated cough and gestured subtly that Fred should pick up the phone before Cordelia heard too much and freaked out. 

Fred hurried to grab the phone. “We’re here,” she sounded breathless as if she ran to grab the phone. “Uh huh, okay. We’ll be right there.” 

“Did – he say ‘demon broad’?” Cordelia asked bewildered. 

Fred hung up and smiled tightly. “Yeah. His, um, wife. It’s an ugly divorce case thing. You know private eye stuff.” Addressing Angel, Fred tried to explain the circumstances without going into detail. “I should get Charles and terminate it before the situation multiplies.” 

When Cordelia looked at Angel for his answer, Fred mimed a pregnancy, trying to explain what was going on for Angel without saying it out loud and confusing Cordelia even more. 

It took a minute for Angel to catch on. “ _Okay!_ I’ll just stay here and help Cordelia settle in.” 

Fred nodded and ran out to the courtyard to get Gunn. Cordelia’s expression became one of suspicion when she noticed the strange smile Angel gave her. There was something they weren’t telling her. 

“So. . .” Angel started to say. 

“I want to go home,” Cordelia cut in. “Know where I live?” 

**************************

Angel led Cordelia to a room at the end of the hall on the third floor. He opened the door and flipped on the light. All of her belongings had been boxed up and stored in the room. 

“This is it?” Cordelia asked as she walked in. “This is everything?” 

Angel stood in the doorway and watched her peruse the boxes. “Fred and Gunn, they moved everything over from your old apartment and you –” He straightened his posture when she picked up a strappy shoe from one of the boxes. “Do you remember that? You wore it when we went to the ballet.” 

“The ballet?” She looked up at him, disbelieving. “For real, you and me?” 

“Well, we all went,” Angel replied. His chest ached from the loss of his boy. Spike was still gone. He didn’t know the first place to look. Whenever he tried to slip into Spike’s mind it was dark. The only way he knew Spike was alive was that he would have felt him if he had dusted. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Uh, yeah. It was pretty special. I thought maybe you’d remember. We had a really good time. Same with working together.” 

Cordelia had weaved through the stack of boxes, picking a teddy bear out of another box. “I wish I could remember.” 

“Me too. I want to help you get those memories back,” Angel said. 

Cordelia sat in a vanity chair. “That’s great – but, not tonight.” 

Angel shifted on his feet, moving backwards out of the room. “I-I understand. If you need any—” 

“I will,” Cordelia said with a small smile. 

“You really are among friends,” Angel said quietly before closing the door. 

Angel walked down the hallway and around the corner. A few minutes later, Spike looked around the corner. The whole hotel smelled like Angel. It was comforting. That didn’t mean he was ready to face his Sire yet. Looking around to make sure no one saw him, Spike moved down the hallway and stopped at the door to Cordelia’s room, curiously listening through the panel. 

Inside, Cordelia had changed into black pants and a scoop-neck top with long sleeves. She sat at the vanity and looked at herself in the large oval dressing mirror. 

“Hi, I’m Cordy,” she said to her reflection in a cheerful tone. Trying a more normal tone, she repeated, “I’m Cordelia Chase. I’m –” She heaved a sigh. “Just breathe. Just breathe.” As a distraction, she opened the yearbook that lay on the table. There were pictures of her as a cheerleader. “Okay, popular. No real surprise there.” She flipped to the inside cover and read the passages: _Cordelia, homeroom was fun. Too bad it burnt to the ground._ “What?” _Hey, how about that giant snake? Dear Cordelia, thanks for the flaming arrows._ “Flaming arrows?” 

Abandoning the book for something else, she found a box with pictures of her. She grabbed a handful and sifted through them. “That’s cute. Cute. Hot. Yikes! Okay, out from the mental ward. Cute again. Was I a spy?” She held up a picture of her standing between Angel and Spike on what appeared to be her birthday. “Who’s the Billy Idol wannabe?” 

Spike disappeared around a corner when he heard her come towards the door. It opened and she stepped out. He watched her walk down the corridor, cautiously staying several paces behind her. He stopped when she stopped. Someone was singing in one of the rooms and then talking. She listened to the conversation for a moment and then ran down the hall before the door opened and Lorne stuck his head out. Spike watched him from around the corner of the hall. When Lorne went back inside the room, Spike followed Cordelia’s scent. 

**************************

Cordelia found her way down the stairs and back in the lobby. “Hello? Somebody down here?” 

Upon hearing her, Angel hurriedly gathered up the mugs of blood he’d been storing. He headed for the kitchen with an armload of covered mugs when Cordelia reached the last step and went to the counter. There was a red spot on the countertop. She touched it and realized it was blood. 

“Oh my God.” 

Spike jumped down from the balcony of the second floor and landed with as little noise as possible. 

Cordelia looked around. “Hello?” 

When the door opened, she startled and hid behind the reception desk. Fred and Gunn came in to the lobby looking disheveled and covered in pink goo. 

“How much do I hate those little babies?” Gunn asked as he tossed his weapon on the desk. 

“Tell me about it,” Fred agreed as she set her weapon down. “I couldn’t squish-squash fast enough.” 

“I know we get paid to do it, but that’s the kind of mayhem I would do for free.” 

“I’m going to be washing their teeny brains out of my hair for a week,” Fred cringed. 

“Hang on. Turn around,” Gunn said, motioning with his finger. 

Fred complied. “What is it?” 

“You don’t even want to know,” Gunn said grimly. “Just hold still.” 

“Charles, maybe we should go upstairs. Cordelia doesn’t want to know we do this kind of exterminating.” 

The woman in question was currently crouched behind the desk, her eyes fixated on the droplet of blood threatening to fall on her at any moment. 

“I almost got it. When do you think Angel’s going to come clean with her?” 

“I’m sure the time will present itself—” Fred started to say. 

Suddenly, Cordelia jumped to avoid the droplet of blood. Fred and Gunn turned to see her. She stared at them as she scurried backwards into the weapons cabinet, causing the door to open and the weapons to fall out. 

“It’s okay, Cordelia,” Fred tried to reassure her. 

Cordelia ran the other way, right into Angel. 

“I can explain,” Angel started to say. When he tried to grab her by the shoulders, she recoiled and ran headlong out into the courtyard. It was any wonder she allowed enough time to open both doors first. 

The second she stepped outside, Cordelia was attacked by two men dressed in black. She immediately started fighting them off with the moves Angel taught her, though it was a mystery how she remembered the maneuvers but not her own name. Angel, Fred and Gunn ran out to help her. 

When the fight was over and the men were incapacitated, Cordelia looked mystified. “Wow. How did I –? I _am_ a spy!” 

Angel heaved a sigh. 

“I get it now,” she said. “You’re all spies, probably Russian. And you’ve brainwashed me, and want me to believe we’re friends so I’ll spill the beans about some nano-techno-thing that you want.” 

“So . . .” Gunn raised a brow. “I look Russian to you?” 

“Black Russian,” Cordelia corrected. 

“That’s a drink,” Angel replied. 

“Says the head spy,” Cordelia shot back. 

“ _Nobody_ here is a spy,” Angel reiterated. Gesturing to the fallen men, he explained, “Those two guys are lawyers – weird as it may seem – from Wolfram  & Hart. They must know you’re back. We’ll have to keep her in the hotel so she’s safe –” 

“Safe?” Cordelia cut in. “Is that some kind of joke? Your friends here were just talking about murdering children. And there’s-there’s-there’s singing and blood and-and pointy things. And did I mention the singing? I mean, what the hell is going on here, Angie?” 

“Angel,” he said. 

“Whatever.” 

“I know things seem weird, maybe even scary,” Angel conceded. “But you have to believe me when I tell you we’re trying to do everything we can to help you get through this difficult time. The Cordelia that we know – the person who you’re trying to remember – is very much at home here – bizarre as that may seem. So, I ask you to look inside, to believe me when I tell you that you’re safe and you’re among friends who only want what’s best for you.” 

Cordelia considered his words for a moment. “I believe you.” 

Angel smiled as he led her back inside the hotel and set her down on the round settee in the center of the room. 

“So, I’m not a spy?” she asked. 

“No,” he replied. 

“And you and me? We weren’t –?” 

“Uh, no,” Angel shook his head, his heart aching for his lost mate. “I’m mated to someone else who is currently missing.” 

“Huh,” Cordelia said thoughtfully. She tilted her head, looking at him quizzically. “Was I a nun?” 

Angel choked, “A what?” 

“I was going through my stuff and I found a whole bunch of these,” she said, pulling the chain out of her shirt to show him. There was a cross at the end of it. 

Angel shrank back from the cross and growled. He was able to keep his face human. “No, you weren’t a nun.” 

Just then, Lorne came in. Cordelia saw him and started screaming. 

“Cordy! Cordy!” Angel yelled, grabbing her shoulders. “It’s okay. He’s with us.” 

Gunn and Fred ran in from the kitchen at the sound of her screams. “Don’t you remember Lorne?” Fred asked. “You two are old buddies.” 

“Yeah,” Gunn agreed. “You want to know why we call him Lorne?” 

Cordelia took a deep breath for courage and glared at Angel. “What I want is answers, and I want them now, mister!” 

“Okay. Maybe we haven’t been a hundred percent . . . honest because, well, we were afraid the truth would scare you,” Angel explained. 

“Yeah, and the lying and deceit have been so comforting,” she replied snidely. 

“You’re right. Our mistake. I think it’s time we came clean about everything,” Angel told Fred and Gunn. 

**************************

**_Four Hours Later . . ._**

“That’s . . . everything?” Cordelia sighed. “It all makes perfect sense now.” She stood and paced in front of the group who sat on the couch watching her. “I was a cheerleader, a princess, and a warrior. _And_ I have visions and super powers and I’m the target of an evil law firm because I’ve spent the last three months living on a higher plane, fighting for the forces of good, who wage a battle against . . . demons and evilies and squishy bug babies, because all that stuff’s real and that’s the world I live in. And I think I know why I don’t remember any of this – ’cause, who’d want to!” 

At a loss for what to say, Lorne offered his drink, “Sea Breeze?” 

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Angel admitted. 

“Says the vampire with a soul and his wacky gang of sidekicks,” Cordelia shot back. 

Gunn raised his hand, “Um, not a sidekick.” 

“Okay,” Angel held his hands up in surrender. “I think there’s a way we might be able to sort this out. Pick a song.” 

“Yeah,” Cordelia started to agree and then realized what he suggested. “What?” 

“So Lorne can read you,” Fred explained. 

“You sing, he sees your future,” Gunn added. 

“Hopefully, he’ll be able to explain what’s happened and how we can get your memory back, Angel said. 

“I can’t just _sing_ ,” Cordelia protested. “I-I don’t even know if I’m musical. Am I?” 

“Sure,” Gunn said uncertainly, remembering their drunken rendition of _We Are the Champions_ with Wesley. “Do you remember any songs?” 

“W-well, there’s so many. How do I pick?” Cordelia asked. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” Angel said, adding to himself, “I’m kind of a ballad man myself, but, uh . . . just pick anything.” 

After some thought, Cordelia started to sing _The Greatest Love of All_ , her voice cracking on the long or high notes. While she was singing, Lorne’s expression turned to one of shock and then upset. 

Fred noticed and whispered to Gunn, “Does he look a little green to you . . . I mean, more than usual?” 

Before Cordelia even got to the bridge of the song, Lorne interrupted her, “Uh, great, enough.” He stood up and she continued to sing. “Okay! You were great.” She stopped when he backed away towards the stairs. “You were great. E-everything’s great. We’re all just, uh . . . I see, uh, a very, very, um . . .” Suddenly, he turned around and made a hasty retreat up the stairs to his room. 

Cordelia turned to her audience. “Was I really that bad?” 

Angel stood up and backed away, intending to go after Lorne and figure out what the demon saw. However, he didn’t want to appear rude. “It wasn’t you. It was . . . the song. It reminds him of . . . um . . .” Just as abruptly as Lorne disappeared, Angel turned around and practically raced up the stairs to Lorne’s room. 

Cordelia threw her hands in the air. “Oh, come on! You guys aren’t even good liars. This is ridiculous.” She headed towards the stairs herself. 

“Where are you going?” Gunn’s voice stopped her. 

“Away. Does it really matter,” Cordelia replied sarcastically. 

“But it’s not safe,” Fred said. 

“Oh, right, ’cause an evil ninja law firm is after me,” Cordelia said snippily. 

“We’ll come with, just in case,” Gunn suggested as he stood up. 

“You keep telling me I was a higher being,” Cordelia reminded him as she turned to leave. “Don’t make me turn you into a rat.” With that, she stomped up the stairs. 

“Can she do that?” Gunn asked apprehensively. 

“Um . . .” Fred followed Cordelia. “Come on, Charles.” 

They finally caught up with Cordelia who was on the second floor wandering around the halls. 

“How about a sandwich?” Fred suggested. “Let’s go to the kitchen.” 

“We have cookies,” Gunn offered. 

As she continued to explore the hotel, Cordelia ground out, “I don’t want a sandwich. I don’t want cookies. I want to talk to Angel, sans sidekicks.” 

As she walked off, Gunn yelled after her, “I am _not_ a sidekick!” 

**************************

Angel knocked on Lorne’s door. “Lorne, talk to me. What did you see?” 

“Go away!” Lorne yelled through the door. 

“If it’s that bad, I need to know,” Angel said plaintively. 

Lorne opened the door and stuck his head out. “It’s that bad. Goodnight!” He tried to close the door again, but Angel blocked it with his foot. 

“I need details,” Angel urged. 

“I got none,” Lorne confessed, “Just a splitting migraine, a tummy full of rattlesnakes, and a strong suspicion that I’m going to lose my lunch if I don’t start drinking myself silly.” He tried to shut the door again, but Angel stopped him. 

“Come on, Lorne. You got to give me something,” Angel said in a tone that was close to begging. 

Lorne heaved a sigh. “Do the words: ‘slouching towards Bethlehem’ ring a bell? Or how about ‘despair’, ‘torment’, ‘terror’? And I’m not referring to little missy’s choice of song either; although that was horrifying in its own right. What I saw was jumbled. It was pieces, flashes. It was enough to make my skin crawl away and scamper under the bed. Evil’s coming, Angel and it’s planning on staying.” 

With that, Lorne slammed the door in Angel’s face. The dark vampire went back to his room. When he rounded the corner, Spike peeked out of his hiding place and watched his Sire go into his room. Did he hear Lorne right? Evil was coming? Did it follow him on the ship from Africa? Was he the one that brought it and infected Cordelia with it? 

Spike crept out of his hiding place and walked up to Angel’s door. He pressed his body against the door and placed his hand on the wooden surface. He was too afraid to be in his Sire’s presence now. He’d done so many horrible things. When he heard footsteps heading his way, Spike bolted through the hall and down the stairs, intent on hiding in the safety of the basement. 

**************************

Cordelia was now wandering through the halls of the third floor, lost. 

“How big is this dump?” Cordelia asked herself. “Angel? Mr. Bumpy-Face? Hello?” She heard a noise and turned, but nothing was there. Assuming it was Fred and Gunn behind her, she said, “Look, I don’t want cookies or juice or you two following me around, so just back off.” 

When she turned around to proceed with her search, someone stepped out of the shadows and blocked her path. 

“You smell good,” he leered. 

His mouth opened impossibly wide and another mouth came out. It was full of sharp teeth and drool. When he roared at her, Cordelia screamed and ran away, down the stairs and into the lobby. Angel heard her scream and ran towards the sound to help her. The strange demon followed Cordelia. He jumped off the balcony and landed right in front of her. She stopped, frightened stiff. 

“What do you want?” she asked, shaking with fear. 

“A snack,” he replied. 

Just then, someone jumped on the strange demon, knocking him down. Cordelia stared in shock as another man; his blonde hair in a disarray of ringlets rescued her from being the demon’s snack. 

The man rose to his feet and looked at her. “You’re not safe here.” He had a British cockney accent. 

She raised a brow. “You think?” 

The demon tried to get up but the blonde guy snapped his neck and the demon fell to the floor again. Spike took her to the couch, setting her down and sat next to her. 

“Do you know me?” she asked. 

“Yeah, you and I used to be roommates, or at least I think we did,” Spike replied in a low voice. His eyes were trained on the dead demon. The voices in his head told him that he did yet another thing wrong. He tried to ignore them in favor of her voice. 

“We used to be roommates?” 

“For a time.” 

“How do you know the others?” she asked. 

“Angelus is my Sire,” Spike replied. When she gave him a confused look, he explained, “Angelus made me.” 

“Oh so, Angel’s your --” 

“Angel’s my mate,” Spike cut in. That much he knew. He also knew that he wasn’t worthy to be in Angel’s presence. His soul was drenched in blood. 

Cordelia saw Spike’s back stiffen when Angel and his sidekicks came down the stairs. It seemed like Spike didn’t know whether to run and hide or stay and protect her. These people were the oddest bunch she’d ever had the displeasure of knowing. When she opened her mouth to speak, Spike shushed her and watched the group gather around the dead demon. 

“How could you let her wander off alone?” Angel’s question was more of an accusation. 

“The words ‘grown woman’ come to mind,” Fred replied. 

“And the gal does have a history of whooping ass. I mean, you saw the hurting she put on those Wolfram & Hart dudes,” Gunn added. 

Spike looked back over his shoulder at her and raised a brow. Cordelia just shrugged. 

“What if Wolfram & Hart came back?” Angel asked, his tone becoming more panicked with each suggestion, “What if there were hundreds of those things? What if this is the way it starts? I mean, with the slouching and the Bethlehem . . . and they’ve taken her because of what she knows – even if she can’t remember she knows it.” 

Spike grabbed Cordelia by the shoulder and jerked her into an alcove of the stairwell when Angel walked past them to lock the doors. 

“Have you been caffeinating your blood again?” Fred asked. 

“Oh, there’s a something,” Lorne confirmed Angel’s words. “But this isn’t it,” he said, gesturing to the demon on the floor. “That was just a client of mine who had a fatal habit of snacking on humans.” 

Angel rounded on him with a glare that resembled Angelus in Spike’s mind, as he accused, “And you let it in here with Cordy?” 

“Hello,” Fred prompted, “back to the something. Is that why you ran out while Cordelia was singing?” 

“Well, **_A_** : I wasn’t running, I was fleeing, and **_B_** : Yes,” Lorne replied. 

“How horrible is this thing?” Gunn asked. 

“Well, I haven’t read the **_Book of Revelations_** lately, but if I was searching for adjectives, I’d probably start there,” Lorne explained. 

That made Fred nervous. “Was that all you saw?” 

“That was the tip of the ’berg, pumpkin,” Lorne replied. “What I got from Cordy was dense.” Angel went to the weapons cabinet as he listened. “A big, fat, tummy-clinching onion from hell. The more layers you peel, the more you cry. Or vomit, in this case. But, I tell you, this is one itch daddy’s done a-scratching.” 

Angel proceeded to hand out weapons to Fred and Gunn, taking one for himself. “Look, we got to get Cordelia before – We just have to find her. She’s out there, alone. No memory and probably terrified.” 

When Angel, Fred and Gunn left the hotel and Lorne went into the office, Spike took Cordelia’s hand and led her to the basement, down through the sewers to the nearest motel. Some place that didn’t remind him so much of Angel and their times together, where he could protect Cordelia and try to get his head on straight. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment_**

Lilah and Wesley were asleep after one of their ritual late night encounters. Lilah’s cell phone rang. She turned the light on, revealing the slinky red nightgown she wore. 

Looking over to see Wesley still asleep, she answered the phone. “Yeah? Hold on.” She got out of bed and went to the hallway, partially closing the bedroom door behind her. “Yeah. She’s back? And you got a positive visual of her? You’re sure it was her? Uh-huh and she’s with Spike? He’s back? That’s unexpected.” Hearing Wesley move in the bedroom, she peeked through the crack to see he had shifted in bed. “No, I’m here. Put an extraction team together. I’m on my way.” 

With that, Lilah hung up and started to get dressed. Wesley turned over as if just waking. “You’re leaving?” 

“No rest for the wicked. You should go back to sleep,” Lilah whispered as she slipped her shoes back on. 

“Do you really have to go?” Wesley asked. 

Lilah walked over to him. “Why? Are you missing me already?” She kissed his forehead playfully. She picked up her keys and purse from the bedside table and took her jacket, walking out the door. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Royal Viking Motel_**

Cordelia dozed on the bed. Spike had the curtains drawn over the windows but peeked out of the side. He moved towards the door to make sure he’d locked it for the hundredth time. From what he heard back at the hotel, Wolfram  & Hart were after her. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to fight them yet. Pig’s blood is not the best diet to use when gearing up for a possible fight. 

“You aren’t leaving, are you?” Cordelia asked sleepily. 

“No,” Spike replied. “You’re safe.” 

Cordelia sat up in bed and leaned back against the headboard. “I’m trying to remember little things. Do I have brothers and sisters? What’s my favorite food? Who was my first kiss? There’s nothing there. Just an empty . . . do you know how lonely that makes me feel?” 

Spike squeezed his eyes shut as he tried hard to get past his own phantoms to remember anything he knew about her. “You like Versace, Dolche & Gabbana. You sing in the shower or tub when you think you’re alone. You lived with a ghost. You love shoes and donuts. And, you’re very brave.” 

“Really? Donuts?” Cordelia gave the first hint of a real smile. 

Spike sat on the bed beside her. “Yeah.” 

Cordelia shifted around to face him. “I have a horrible feeling that something bad is going to happen. Or maybe has happened. I can’t remember it, though. I don’t know what to do – or who to trust. Why do I get the feeling that you lost everything too?” 

“I don’t know if I’ve lost everything. I’ve gained some things, a few which I don’t want,” Spike’s shoulders slumped at the thought of Angel and what he thought Angel’s reaction would be to the latest turn of events. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Fred and Gunn looked over a map of Los Angeles. 

“She’s got to be somewhere close,” Fred said. 

“Then Angel will find her,” Gunn said confidently. 

“What if she’s on her own? What if she’s been taken, or . . .” Fred was starting to become as panicked as Angel was earlier. 

“She’s out there somewhere.” 

“Nothing,” Angel said, walking in the door. “We’re going to have to widen the search. Hospitals, police stations . . . she couldn’t have disappeared.” He thought about it a moment. “Okay, once. But, not again. Somebody has to know where Cordelia is.” 

“I do,” Wesley said behind him. They all turned to see the former Watcher step into the lobby. “A bit careless, misplacing her after all the effort to find her.” 

“ _We_ didn’t find her. She just showed up with no memory, no idea of who she is or where she’s been,” Angel explained. 

Wesley pondered that idea. “A fresh start. It doesn’t sound so bad.” 

“What do you know?” Angel challenged. 

“Wolfram  & Hart are planning to extract her.” 

“They already tried that,” Gunn said. 

Wesley stared pointedly at Gunn. “They’ll try again. She might have spent time with the Powers That Be. Wolfram & Hart will consider her valuable.” He looked at Angel as he said, “I doubt your boy will be able to stop them.” 

“My – She’s with Spike? Spike’s back? Why didn’t he come home? Do you have it on good authority that she’s with him?” Angel was getting more anxious with each question. “Where are they, Wes?” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Royal Viking Motel_**

Cordelia slept in bed while Spike stood guard at the window. One minute she was resting on her side, the next, Spike was looming over her with his hand over her mouth. 

Spike pressed a finger to his lips and whispered, “Someone’s here.” 

The sounds of someone trying to jimmy the lock on the door could be heard. Cordelia’s eyes went wide as she looked up at Spike. Spike turned to see the doorknob turn. He gestured again to remain silent and stepped up to the wall behind the door. When the door opened, Spike slammed it forward again, knocking the intruder out. 

“Can you fight?” he asked as he retrieved some makeshift implements to bind and gag their unwelcome guest and keep him out of the way. 

“What?” Cordelia asked, perplexed. 

“They’re coming for you. Do you remember how to fight?” Spike asked a little on the irritated side. 

Spike tossed her a weapon just as another black-clad assailant crashed through the window and tackled Spike to the ground. 

“One way to find out,” she replied. She stood up and went after the person who had Spike down. 

They fought off the intruders. More crashed into the room through the window and door. Cordelia seemed to be holding her own with her weapon and Spike had finally let down his guard and turned into his demon to fight off his opponents. One of the intruders walked through the melee and put a camera on a shelf so that their boss could watch the scene remotely. 

“Cordy!” Spike shouted as he continued to fight. Soon, they were both overpowered, even with Spike’s supernatural strength he couldn’t handle so many at once. One of the intruders tried to escort Cordelia out of the room only to be waylaid by Angel kicking down the door. Gunn and Fred entered the room after him. Pulling Cordelia away from her would-be kidnapper, Angel and Gunn started to fight off the intruders. 

On the roof of the building adjacent to the motel, Lilah watched the scene from her handheld device. “Well, well . . . finally showed up for the big rescue.” 

A man clad in black stepped up beside her. “Miss Morgan, it’s done.” 

“Hmm,” she acknowledged as she turned off her handheld. “Music to my ears, Carlo. I’m going home. Tell the boys it’s fourth-and-ten. 

Carlo clicked on his walkie-talkie. “All units: punt. I repeat: punt.” 

Inside the motel next door, the intruders suddenly stopped fighting and immediately took off. 

“That’s right monkey boys,” Gunn yelled after them. “Don’t mess with the big dog!” When Angel, Fred and Spike looked at him strangely, he said, “It’s better than ‘sidekick’.” 

Angel turned to Cordelia who sat on the bed, still holding on to her weapon. “Did they hurt you? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” 

That’s when Angel turned to see Spike struggle to get up. Spike looked different than when he last saw him. The blonde hair was in disarray, no longer slicked back. The darker roots were beginning to show. He watched the other vampire get to his knees. The demon face Spike shifted to during the fight, was now back to his human facade. 

“Spike?” 

Angel’s voice was rough with emotion. The rawness of it caught Gunn and Fred’s attention. They watched as their friend reunited with his long-lost companion. Angel stepped closer to Spike. The blonde jumped and there was a blur of movement as he scrambled to a dark corner of the room and huddled there. 

“Spike, it’s okay. It’s me, Angel,” Angel said quietly. 

He already had to do this dance once tonight with Cordelia. Now, here he was doing it all over again for his mate. It had been so long since he’d seen the younger vampire, so long since he’d touched him. 

“I didn’t expect so many,” Spike said apologetically. 

He tried to keep Cordelia safe, because he remembered she was one of his Sire’s pet humans. He tried to tamp down the memories of his past so that he could concentrate on fighting and he failed miserably. By the time Angel showed up, Spike had four guys on top of him, watching helpless as another took Cordelia away. His haunted mind got the better of him and now his Sire was here to finish him off. He couldn’t possibly keep Spike around any longer. He was a liability now. 

“You tried,” Angel said encouragingly. “Spike, come on. Let’s go home.” 

“Can’t go home. Angel wouldn’t want me there. He doesn’t want me there anymore. William is a bad man.” He looked directly into Angel’s eyes. “I’m a bad man.” 

“Spike,” Angel said sternly to get the other vampire’s attention. When it looked like Spike heard him, he said, “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go to the hotel and we’ll talk about it okay?” 

Spike staggered to his feet and followed Angel. When they passed Cordelia on the way to the door, Angel said, “Cordy, you too. You can’t stay here. There’s more room at the hotel.” 

“But --” Cordelia started to protest. 

“Damn it,” Angel barked causing Spike to jump. “Cordelia, there are sixty-eight rooms. Pick one and then we can deal with how to get your memory back. I’m not leaving Spike here and you’re not staying here alone.” 

Cordelia glared at him before she followed Gunn and Fred out of the room. Angel steered Spike out the door and shut it behind him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

The minute they entered the hotel, Cordelia ran up to the room where her things were being stored and shut the door. 

Fred looked up after her and then back at Angel as Gunn said, “Hey, just remember, man, that’s not really Cordy – well, not all of her.” 

“She’s confused is all,” Fred added. “Give her time.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m going to take Spike up and get him settled in,” Angel started to say when he heard something from the office. 

Angel settled Spike on the sofa and gestured for Gunn and Fred to back him up. They burst into the office only to find Lorne passed out, bound to a chair and gagged with a broken horn and a large bleeding hole in his head. 

“Oh, my God!” Fred cried as she ran to Lorne’s side. 

Angel and Gunn untied him. “Lorne?” 

“Is he alive?” she asked pensively. 

“What happened? Who did this?” Angel demanded. 

“W . . .” Lorne started to say weakly. 

“Wesley?” Gunn filled in with a groan. “Not again.” Lorne shook his head negatively. 

“Wolfram  & Hart?” Angel supplied. Lorne nodded. 

“Okay, but-but why? I thought Cordy was their target,” Gunn said. 

“They must have known Lorne read her,” Angel surmised. 

“So that fight at the motel was a decoy?” Gunn asked. 

“And we fell for it like a bunch of rookies,” Angel growled. “They weren’t after Cordy. They were after what Lorne saw when she sang.” 

“And they sucked it out of his head?” Fred inquired as she dabbed at the wound. 

“Mm-hmm,” Lorne groaned in pain as he came to. 

“How much? What’d they get?” Angel asked. 

“They had – they had a demon,” Lorne said weakly. “I-I wouldn’t talk. The thing burrowed . . . inside . . . took Cordy out.” 

“Lorne, how much did they get?” Angel stressed. 

“All of it,” he replied. 

“They tricked us,” Fred said, stating the obvious. 

“Wolfram & Hart or Wesley?” Gunn asked. “He’s the one who showed up with the hot tip. How do we know he isn’t playing us?” 

“We don’t,” Angel said. “But what we do know is that Wolfram & Hart may now know more about Cordelia’s doom and gloom thing than we do. That’s a problem.” Angel looked out the office window to see lobby deserted. “Where’d Spike go?” 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Rooftop_**

Spike sat on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city as he had done in many dreams while he was on the ship. The city lights twinkled like stars from this vantage point. He heard the door to the rooftop open, but didn’t acknowledge the presence. He tried not to think too much about it. If he didn’t allow himself to accept the existence of his Sire, then he could still count this as another dream and Angel wouldn’t look on him in contempt. 

“I should have known it was really you,” Angel said. “I smelled your scent all over the hotel the past couple of weeks. I thought it was just an old scent, but you’ve been inside the hotel all this time.” Spike’s only response was to hang his head as if in shame. “Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you show yourself when you got back?” When only silence greeted his questions, Angel tentatively stepped closer to Spike as if approaching an injured animal. 

“Spike, we need to talk.”


	3. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 53: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 3)_

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Roof_**

Spike looked down at his hands folded on his lap as he sat on the edge of the roof. He refused to look at Angel. It wasn’t like he was there anyway. His hand would probably go right through if he tried to touch him. That was the thing with memories, none of it was tangible. For all he knew, he could still be on the slow-boat from Africa. 

“Spike, look at me,” Angel said as he took a step closer. Already this conversation was going a lot better than the one he initially had with Cordelia. At least, Spike wasn’t backing away from him. Not that he had anywhere to go, unless he wanted to jump off the roof. Thinking about it like that made it seem like he had an unfair advantage trapping Spike on the roof like this. 

The blonde curls moved as Spike looked up at Angel. All Angel could see was the torment. Torment was so familiar to him. There was also restlessness, fatigue, strain from nightmares – or worse. Angel moved closer and perched on the edge of the roof next to Spike. 

“So, how was your summer?” Angel’s tone came out in mocking nonchalance. “Mine was fun. Saw some fish, went mad with hunger, hallucinated a whole bunch.” 

“What happened to you?” Spike asked quietly. 

“Holtz’s idea of vengeance,” Angel replied. “He and his girlfriend locked me a metal coffin and dumped me offshore. Wesley found me and brought me up. From what he told me, Holtz had his girlfriend kill him and dump him in the ocean – minus the coffin.” Spike looked at him in surprise. Angel shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad really. I mean, Buffy sent me to a hell dimension for a hundred years or so. As far as I’m concerned, three months under the ocean gave me perspective.” Angel tilted his head in thought. “Kind of an M. C. Esher perspective.” He shrugged. “It gave me some time to think about us, about the world.” Angel looked at the night sky and the glow of the city lights. “Nothing in this world is the way it ought to be. It’s harsh, and cruel. It doesn’t matter where we came from, what we’ve done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be.” 

Silence reigned for a several minutes before Spike spoke. “Three months living on the ocean floor and that’s what you came up with?” He scoffed, “Ponce.” 

Suddenly, the blonde vampire burst into a fit of maniacal laughter. Angel looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Spike looked over at his Sire quizzically. The laughter stopped as abruptly as it began. 

“The thing is, I had a speech all planned for when I saw you again,” Spike said quietly. 

“A speech about what?” Angel asked. When Spike didn’t answer, he sighed. “Spike, if this is about why I kicked you out of the hotel --” 

“No. That’s over and done with,” Spike shook his head, “Can’t come back from that. There’s no way to come back from that. Wishing that it would make you pay for the wrongs you’ve done to me. It was a bloody ludicrous idea, right? That’s fine,” He tapped the side of his head with a finger. “Not the best laid plan in the world. That’s like making God pay for the Great Flood or the Devil pay for his sins against God that got him booted from Heaven. Not something you can just sweep under the rug, can you? I tried to . . . try to make it right.” 

Angel looked at him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Spike, have you completely lost your mind?” 

Spike straightened up, he stood and turned on the elder vampire. “Well, yeah. Where have you been all night?” 

“What the hell happened to you?” Angel asked bewildered. Spike stood right in front of him but it was like he wasn’t there at all. It seemed like he was a million miles away . . . or a lifetime away. 

Spike patted his chest. “I tried to find it, of course.” 

“Find what? What were you looking for? Me? I’m right here,” Angel replied, trying to follow the disjointed words. 

“No. The spark. The missing . . . the piece that made me fit. That would make me fit. Because you didn’t want me. You kept sending me back to Sunnydale and then you kicked me out. I had to find the piece that would make you see that . . . God, I can’t do this.” Spike growled in frustration, turned on his heel and walked away. 

Angel stood up and in several long strides, caught up with him. He grabbed Spike’s arm and spun him around. Spike wouldn’t look at him directly. He stared at his shoes, at the ground, the skyline, but not at him. 

“Stop running away from me. I can’t help you if you keep running away. Now, tell me what you’re talking about,” Angel demanded. 

“I dreamed of you,” Spike said softly as he stared at the skyline. “I think they were dreams. We were at a dinner table . . . set up for Thanksgiving I think.” 

“Yeah, it was part of my hallucination,” Angel confirmed. He watched Spike nibble his bottom lip. 

“There were other scenes too. On a cliff and somewhere . . . I don’t know.” 

“You were in my hallucinations, Spike. We share a bond. Where were you? How did you get home?” Angel asked. His tone belied his growing impatience. Just then the moonlight illuminated the pale skin revealed by the half-open shirt Spike wore. Angel opened the shirt wider and saw the healing scratch marks on the otherwise perfect skin. “What did you do, Spike?” 

Spike looked down at the scratches, almost surprised to see them there. “I tried to cut it out.” 

“Cut what out? Your heart?” Angel asked perplexed. 

“The spark. You should’ve warned me,” Spike finally looked Angel in the eyes, glaring actually. “You make a good show of forgetting, but it’s here,” he traced the healing marks, hissing painfully when his nail caught a jagged edge. “It’s in me all the time. The spark.” He looked at Angel’s chest. He couldn’t bear to look at his Sire’s face and see the disappointment. He knew for certain that Angel didn’t have any scars under his shirt. “I wanted to give you something better, to prove I was better. They put the spark in me and now all it does is burn.” 

Angel looked shocked for a moment. He reached out with both hands and tilted Spike’s face to study him. For several minutes, Spike refused to look at him. When he finally opened his eyes, Angel stared at him, searching for something. Then, he found it, a glimmer. Spike’s insane ramblings made sense now. 

“Oh, God,” Angel choked. “You naïve, beautiful boy, what have you done?” 

“They gave me the spark so that you can have what you deserve,” Spike replied with a bitter laugh. “It hasn’t been used in a while.” 

“How did you --” Angel started to ask and then closed his mouth, still shocked at what he saw in his boy’s eyes. 

“It’s what you wanted, right? To be equal, so you wouldn’t send me away again. Now everyone is inside, talking. Everything I did. Everyone I – and _him_ , the monster inside that needs to feed. The other being that is a part of me, yet separate. They all just tell me to go . . . go . . . go to hell.” A sob escaped. It was uncontrollable. He couldn’t have held on to it any longer. “Please, don’t send me . . . .” 

Angel stared at Spike, astonished by his confession. It was surreal. The whole night had been bizarre. Spike had taken off three months ago and came back with a soul. For him. But why? “Why did you do it, Spike?” 

“I did it for you . . . for forgiveness . . . for acceptance,” Spike whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. He buckled under the weight of his admission and fell to his knees at Angel’s feet. He wrapped his arms around Angel’s waist, hugging him, holding on as if Angel were a lifeline. “Everything’s okay, right? Sire . . . forgive me? Can we rest, now?” 

Angel squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. When was the last time someone asked for his forgiveness? When was the last time someone went to the end of the world in search of a way to better themselves for him? 

Angel reached down and pulled Spike to his feet. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, he helped Spike walk to the door and down the stairs to their room. It was their room again. He helped Spike inside and pushed the door shut. He directed Spike to sit on the bed and proceeded to undress the younger vampire. Once Spike was naked, Angel settled him under the covers and then stripped down and joined him. 

Angel tugged Spike against his body and hugged him. “It’s okay, baby boy. Rest now, no one’s going anywhere. I’m not going to send you away.” 

He felt Spike’s body relax against him. While Spike slept – probably for the first time in months – Angel stared the ceiling. After all he’d been through, it was almost too much. Being trapped at the bottom of the ocean didn’t seem like a huge thing at the moment. Somehow Spike had gone and got a soul to prove his commitment to him. In all the years they’ve been mated not once did Angel think about mentioning a soul to Spike. It was the last thing his boy had ever wanted. Was it a curse? Did Spike run into Gypsies? 

Angel focused on the ceiling and the crack running along it left over from the earthquake that happened months ago. He’d stayed alone in this room and never realized how bad it was. The cracks had gone neglected in lieu of his heartbreak over Spike’s disappearance. Now that he was back, the cracks were almost glaring. He should really fix this room up, make it habitable again. 

Angel looked down at Spike sleeping soundly. Snuggling against the slighter body, he pressed a kiss to Spike’s forehead and closed his eyes, joining his mate in slumber. 

**************************

Angel awoke at dusk. It took him a moment to realize he’d slept all day. It was the first time in months – since Spike disappeared – that he’d had a decent day’s rest. The thought of Spike not being there caused Angel to tighten his hold on the sleep-warmed body next to him. Spike purred in response, but didn’t wake up. Angel closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, curled around the one thing that made him complete. 

An hour later, Angel was roused by a whimpering voice. 

“No. No. Too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too much . . . inside me all the way,” Spike mumbled in his sleep. 

Angel leaned up on an elbow and tried to wake the blonde vampire, but to no avail. Spike was deep in a nightmare. 

“Deep, deep, deep inside me,” he continued to ramble. 

Angel shook him, “Spike, wake up! It’s just a nightmare. It’s not real.” 

“Get away,” Spike replied as he pushed against him. “Have to get away. He doesn’t want me. Not like this.” 

“Spike, come on, baby boy. Wake up,” Angel pleaded as he held onto Spike so he wouldn’t fall over the side of the bed. 

“No more mind games. No more mind. Had to find the spark, the spark . . . ain’t we in a soddin’ engine?” 

“Spike!” Angel yelled. 

That brought a reaction out of the younger vampire. Suddenly Angel found himself flat on his back with Spike straddling him and his hands wrapped around his throat. Not that he was in any danger of suffocating. It was a defensive maneuver; Spike lashing out at his nightmare. 

“Spike, it’s me,” Angel said quietly. 

The blonde vampire stared at him as if he were seeing someone or something else. Several minutes passed as Spike struggled to find his bearings and slowly released his hold. He collapsed against Angel and strong arms enveloped him. Spike shuddered against the big vampire. Angel wasn’t sure if it was from the chill in the night air or his nightmare. 

“I don’t trust what I see anymore. I don’t know how to explain it, Angel. It’s like I’ve been seeing things. Drusilla used to see things, you know? She’d always stare up at the sky watching cherubs burn or the heavens bleed or some nonsense. I used to look at her and think she’d gone completely crazy. But, she’d see the sky when we were inside and it’d make her so happy. She’d see showers. She’d see stars. Now I see her. I see what we did. I see the people I’ve killed. I’m not even sure you’re really here or if I’m still on that boat in the ocean.” 

Spike’s voice reverberated against the crook of Angel’s neck as he spoke. All the dark vampire could do was listen. Angel’s heart broke at Spike’s words. It had taken him a hundred years to tune out the voices in his head. He couldn’t imagine Spike suffering for the next hundred years as he learned to ignore his own memories. 

“Spike . . .” 

“I’m in trouble, Angel,” Spike admitted in a barely audible whisper. 

“Shh, Spike. It’s okay. Everything will be fine. We’ll get through this,” Angel said softly. Now seemed the best time as any to ask the one question that’s been weighing on his mind. “How did you get your soul?” 

“I went to Africa in search of a legend. There’s a demon that will give you what you ask for if you survive his trials. I didn’t know I would get this. I just wanted something to show you that I could be better than I was. He promised to make me what I was and restored my soul.” 

Angel was silent as he absorbed this information. Spike wasn’t cursed. He’d asked for his soul without realizing what he was getting himself into. Now the memories were making him nearly insane. He remembered telling Spike to get out after he discovered the memories of the affair with Buffy. Spike had used that to go to the end of the world, to work through a set of unknown trials and gained his soul. Whatever happened between them in the past wasn’t important anymore. Spike had been and would be punished enough by the past deeds of his demon. He wouldn’t turn him away now. Sending him to Sunnydale was definitely out of the question. No one there understood what having a soul was like after a century of being evil – no one except him. Then, it hit him what Spike’s soul meant. There was someone else just like him that understood him. 

“I’ll help you get through this. You won’t have to deal with this alone,” Angel promised. Suddenly, his cell phone vibrated on the nightstand behind Spike, startling the younger vampire. “It’s okay, Spike. It’s just the phone.” Angel reached over him and grabbed the phone, answering it. “Hello?” 

“Hey Angel dumpling, I found a memory spell. Well, it sort of fell into my lap courtesy of one of my clients. It’s been guaranteed to bring our Cordy back to the way she was,” Lorne said excitedly. 

“Guaranteed?” Angel asked skeptically. 

“Yep! No pain, no side-effects. I’m telling you, there’s no way this can fail,” Lorne said confidently. “This client deals in memory spells professionally. She swore up and down that with the right mix, we can stop this amnesia thing in its tracks and cut to the Cordelia Chase in two ticks of a . . . ticking thing.” 

“I don’t know, Lorne. Spells . . . I don’t trust them,” Angel hedged. 

“Well, Cordy’s all for it,” Lorne said. 

“If it helps get Cordelia’s memory back, we should try it,” Spike spoke up. 

Angel looked at him astonished that he had an opinion at all. Spike had been so wrapped up in his memories that Angel didn’t think that he cared one way or the other. Angel looked at the haunted blue eyes, unsure if Spike was really ready for this. 

Never taking his eyes off Spike, Angel replied, “Fine, we’re in.” 

“Great! I’ve got all the ingredients lined up. As soon as you get down here and we gather the others, we’ll be good to go.” Lorne hung up before Angel could say anything more. 

Angel shut the phone off and set it aside. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“Yes, I need something else to focus on besides what’s going on inside my head,” Spike replied. 

“Okay then, let’s get dressed and go downstairs,” Angel said as he got up and searched for a clean pair of pants and a shirt. Spike followed suit. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

Angel and Spike met Gunn and Fred on the landing of the stairs. While they were dragging themselves out of bed, it seemed Lorne had utilized the time and painted a symbol on the floor of the lobby. Thick white strokes formed a two-foot diameter circle with evenly spaced three-foot lines off-shooting from it. He was in the process of placing the needed supplies around the circle. 

“Oh great, more symbols on the floor,” Gunn said sarcastically as he descended the stairs. “That’s always good.” 

“Check your sarcasm at the door, pouty-britches. This is for Cordy,” Lorne said. 

“I just don’t want any portals opening up around here. I’ve had enough of that crap,” Gunn commented. 

“Sorry, Lorne,” Fred apologized as she passed the demon. “We really have had a lot of that crap.” 

“Yeah, well, my parade is rain-proof, baby doll,” Lorne assured her. “My first reading since I got my head drilled, and I find the spell that’s going to bring our little Cordy right back to us. Lo-lath ch-owrng ne brunn.” 

“Kaya-no-m’tek,” Fred replied. 

The doors to the front of the Hyperion opened and Wesley walked in confused. 

“Did I miss the spell? Did English go away?” 

“No, it’s Pylean. I said: ‘I may be prepared to shout a joyful chant,’” Lorne explained. 

“And I said: ‘May your words please the gods,’” Fred added shyly. 

Wesley stepped closer to her and whispered, “Are you all right? Did you . . .?” 

“It’s done,” she replied nervously. 

“Did I miss anything? What’s with the designs on the floor?” Cordelia asked as she came down the stairs. 

“Hopefully it comes up better than red paint,” Angel replied. 

Spike leaned against the reception desk watching the interaction with disembodied interest. He didn’t feel quite grounded yet. He was zoning out when a heated argument from the manager’s office caught his attention. He didn’t remember seeing Wesley go in there. 

_“What about Fred?” Wesley asked._

_“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Gunn shot back. “She’s pretty brainy too. Maybe you two are kindred souls. Maybe that’s why she went to you for help in getting revenge on that Professor. Killing takes brains.”_

_“I did what you weren’t prepared to do,” Wesley retorted._

_“You have no idea what I’ve – what I would do for her,” Gunn challenged._

_“Is there some reason I should need to know?” Wesley asked derisively._

_“You think I can’t smell this a mile off? You think I don’t know why you keep coming back here?” Gunn asked._

_“Because you keep needing my help.”_

_“I’m going to say this once: you make a move on Fred and I’m going to put you down hard.”_

_“I’m glad to see you have such faith in your relationship,” Wesley taunted._

_“Keep pushing, English,” Gunn warned._

_“Do you think you could get out of my way,” Wesley said casually as he made to push past the vampire hunter._

_I don’t know what --” Gunn started to say as he stepped in his way._

_“Not all of us have muscle to fall back on,” Wesley said and began to walk away._

_“What happened to you, man?”_

_“I had my throat cut and all my friends abandoned me,” Wesley replied._

A minute later, he walked past Spike who shrank away from him. There was something about the former Watcher that set Spike on edge. 

**************************

As Lorne performed the spell, the group sat around the symbol on the floor holding hands. Lit candles were in front of them. 

“Okay, eyes on the bottle,” Lorne instructed. “We come in supplication and hope. Bring her back.” 

The bottle started to move. It wobbled around the center of the circle. Suddenly, a magical amber light streamed out of the bottle, directed at each person. When the light faded, the bottled fell over and spun around. 

“What’s going on?” Cordelia asked perplexed. 

“I feel a little . . .” Lorne slurred as he crawled away. 

Everyone seemed a little disoriented. They each crawled away from the circle. Lorne crawled behind the counter and passed out. 

“What’s happening to us?” Gunn asked. 

Angel went outside. Spike crawled up the staircase and then stuck his head through the posts to look over the edge. “This is really high,” Spike said to himself. “Like Mount Everest. How would I know how high Mount Everest is? Have I climbed Mount Everest?” 

Fred started to seriously consider a houseplant. “This is important. It’s so beautiful.” Suddenly, her stomach churned and she vomited into the plant. Behind her, Gunn practiced martial arts moves. 

Wesley still sat in his place in the circle. “We’ll just see if there are any side effects,” he giggled. 

Cordelia got to her feet and looked around in a daze. “What’s happening? We can’t just . . . we have to . . . No!” She smashed the bottle with her foot. That seemed to make the buzz go away for everyone. 

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Cordelia demanded. 

“What’s your name?” Wesley asked as he struggled to stand. 

“Cordelia Chase, dumbass. And if this is some sort of sophomore hazing prank where I get doped up and left with a bunch of proto-losers, then my parents are going to be suing the entire population of Sunnydale. Comprende?” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gunn asked. 

“It’s called kidnapping a minor, hair-club-for-men. And if you think for a second that I’m going to put up with this, well, you don’t know Cordelia --” She became distracted when the door opened and Angel walked back in. “Cordelia . . . salty goodness.” 

Wesley threw his arms wide. “ALL RIGHT! Hang on. You’re Cordelia Chase, you’re a high school student, and you live in Sunnydale?” 

“Right,” Cordelia nodded. 

Wesley turned to Gunn. “So, who are you?” 

“I’m the guy that’s going to be kicking a whole mess of ass if somebody don’t tell me what’s going on,” Gunn threatened. 

“What do they call you for short?” Cordelia asked. 

“Does anyone here recognize anyone?” Wesley asked. 

Angel watched everyone guardedly as he crouched down, hugging his chest. 

Fred raised her hand. “Um, I’m Fred Burkle. I go to school in San Antonio.” 

“Oh, we’re both in school. Gosh, let’s be best friends so I can lose all my cool ones,” Cordelia said snidely. 

“There’s no need to be snippety, Miss,” Wesley spoke up. 

“This is a clarion call for snippety, Princess Charles,” Cordelia shot back. 

“It’s Wesley, thank you,” he corrected. “Wyndham-Pryce.” He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and stood proudly. “I am from the Watcher’s Academy in southern Hampshire. In fact, I happen to be head boy.” 

“Gee, I wonder how you earned that nickname,” Cordelia snarked. 

“A lot of effort, I don’t mind saying,” Wesley replied. 

“I don’t see how you could have been head boy. I was the first in my class at the University,” Spike said. 

They all turned to see a young man with shocking white hair, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans which seemed to be out of place with the upper-crust English accent. 

“Gunn.” 

Wesley panicked and ducked, sending Spike into a fit of laughter. “Where?” 

“Me,” Gunn said with ill-disguised annoyance. “That’s my name – the short version anyway.” 

“Ah,” Wesley acknowledged. “What school do you attend?” 

Gunn rolled his eyes. He was starting to like the blonde guy with the upper-crust accent more and more. 

Cordelia scoffed and walked up to Angel. “So, we’ve heard from the socially handi-capable. What’s your story?” 

“Mad,” Angel said as he got to his feet. “You’re all mad. These clothes, your speech, this place.” He tilted his head and looked at the group quizzically. “What land is this?” 

“What land is it supposed to be?” Gunn asked. 

“Yes, where do you hail from, friend?” Wesley inquired. 

Angel glowered at the Englishman. “I’m not your friend, you English pig. We never wanted you in Ireland. We don’t want you now.” 

“You’re Irish?” Gunn asked. 

“You don’t sound Irish,” Cordelia interjected. 

“For most certain, I sound exactly --” Angel stopped when he heard his tone and felt his throat. “Something’s wrong with my voice.” 

“What’s your name?” Spike asked in his upper-crust accent. 

“Liam,” Angel replied in a squeak. It still didn’t sound right. There was definitely something wrong with his voice. Why was the blonde man with the t-shirt and jeans looking at him strangely? “Who are you?” 

“William,” Spike replied. 

“Great, we’ve all got names,” Cordelia harrumphed and headed for the door. “Bye, now.” 

“I wouldn’t be so quick, Miss Chase, to leave. Clearly, we’re all victims of some nefarious scheme.” 

Angel sat on the stairs across the distance from Spike. Spike watched intently as Angel felt his throat again while repeating his own name. 

“I’ll lay odds that door is bolted shut,” Wesley said. “And who knows what peril lies outside it. Before we do anything, I suggest we gather as much information as we can.” 

“And I suggest we gather some cops,” Cordelia shot back. 

“Yo, I don’t want no heat near me,” Gunn objected. 

“I don’t think we should call the police anyhow. I mean, they’re probably involved,” Fred said. 

“In what?” Gunn asked. 

“Don’t you all think this is some kind of government conspiracy? ’Cause my friend, Levon, says the government’s always taking kids and experimenting on them. Did anybody else have to take a personality disorder test recently? They ask you about politics and your bowel movements and if you want to be a florist --” 

“ **OKAY** ,” Cordelia cut in on Fred’s rant. “We’ve heard from Scarlet O’Please-Shut-Me-Up. Does anyone sane have a theory?” 

“There are conspiracies and stuff,” Fred said defensively. “You don’t even know . . .” 

“I got no problem with that idea,” Gunn agreed. 

“The important thing is to start with the facts. We’re all from different cities; we’re all of an age . . .” 

“Judging from the amount of hair on your face, we’ve all been unconscious for at least a month,” Spike added which caused Wesley to run his hand over his face to check. 

However, when Cordelia checked the length of her own hair, she panicked. “Oh God, oh God, my hair, my hair.” Suddenly, the dam burst with a flood of tears. “The government gave me bad hair.” 

“No, no, it’s nice,” Fred assured her. 

“Yes, it’s just the thing,” Wesley agreed. 

“Are you sure?” Cordelia whined. 

“It’s . . . eh . . . very attractive. But a clue! Perhaps the whole point of this is experiment is hair!” Wesley said. 

“I vote he’s not in charge,” Gunn surmised. 

“It’s the devil,” Angel spoke up. “It’s the devil.” 

“My hair?” Cordelia cried. 

“My father said I was a sinner, that I’d come to a bad end. Now I’ve come to Hell,” Angel replied. 

“Well, Hell’s a lot nicer than my place,” Gunn commented. 

“Maybe I can find a way out of here and get back home to ask Cecily to marry me if she hasn’t already been nabbed up by Reginald,” Spike announced to the room. 

“It appears to be some sort of hotel,” Wesley said, stating the obvious. 

“Maybe it’s Motel Hell,” Fred giggled. 

“Well, let’s get the lay of the place,” Wesley suggested. 

“Don’t give me orders. I run my own crew,” Gunn said. 

“I’m sure your seafaring adventures are very interesting, but I have experience of things you couldn’t imagine. I’m not head boy for nothing,” Wesley said defensively. 

Gunn stepped into Wesley’s personal space menacingly. “You’re about to be headless boy if you don’t get out of my face.” 

Spike had tuned out the argument between Wesley and Gunn. It was starting to get old. He looked over at Angel across the distance of the entryway. The dark-haired man was still trying to work out whether he was evil and in Hell or not. For some reason, he was drawn to him. Fred’s scream broke through his thoughts. 

“All right!” Wesley said. “Nobody scream or touch my arms.” 

“Well, I think I found another clue,” Fred called out. 

“She’s not wrong,” Gunn agreed. 

Wesley, Cordelia, Angel and Spike walked around the reception desk. 

“Okay, this is even less funny. What the hell is that?” Cordelia asked. 

They all looked at Lorne passed out on the floor behind the desk. 

“I knew it,” Angel said. “It’s the devil.” 

Fred tilted her head as she studied the man with the horns. “Why is the devil sleepy?” 

“Let’s get him up,” Wesley suggested. 

“And then do what with him?” Spike asked. 

“William, help me get him up. We’ll tie him up and then when he wakes up, we’ll ask him why he brought us all here,” Wesley said. 

Spike helped Wesley get the demon up off the floor and onto the round settee. Wesley disappeared into the office and came back with duct tape. The others watched as he proceeded to duct-tape Lorne to the settee. 

“I say we cut his head off,” Gunn recommended. 

“He may have information we need,” Wesley insisted. “When he wakes up--” 

“When he wakes up, we don’t even know if this tape is going to hold him. I say we cut his damn head off,” Gunn countered. 

“Thank you very much, Marie Antoinette,” Wesley grumbled to himself. 

“What did you call me?” Gunn demanded. 

“Hey! Hey, you two want to stop the homo-erotic buddy-cop session long enough to explain this,” Cordelia said. “Wooden stakes . . . a guy with horns. And neither of you seems that surprised when things just keep getting weirder.” 

On the other side of the room, Angel and Spike found the weapons cabinet. They opened it and looked inside. 

“All right!” Wesley said as he slashed his arm through the air in an overly dramatic fashion. “I’m going to let you all in on something you may have trouble comprehending. I assure you that however --” 

“Vampires are real,” Gunn cut in. 

That got Angel and Spike’s attention. They mirrored each other as they turned around to look at Gunn and Wesley facing off in the middle of the room. 

“I was telling!” Wesley yelled. 

Gunn scoffed. “Vampires are all over L.A., man. I’ve been fighting them my whole life.” 

Angel’s eyes shifted to the demon duct taped to the settee. “That creature’s a vampire?” 

“No, I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that,” Gunn gestured to the demon. 

“I have,” Wesley said as he raised his hand. “Oh. It’s . . . a demon. Probably of the Karathmama-nyuhg family. You see? Some of us have slightly broader experience--” 

“How do you kill it?” Gunn asked. 

“Well, I know this breed is nocturnal and feeds on roots or possibly human effluvia, and, uh, it’s a horned race --” 

“So, you don’t know anything then,” Spike said. He looked at Angel. “Why does he act like he’s the one in charge?” 

“I’m going to get me one of those axes,” Gunn said, momentarily distracted by the open weapons cabinet. 

“Hold on,” Wesley interjected. 

“Hey, don’t matter what it is. If it looks wrong, it dies.” 

When Gunn walked away, Wesley grabbed his arm to stop him. “Not until we find out --” Gunn grabbed his neck from behind. “Oh, quit it!” In retaliation, Wesley reached back and grabbed Gunn’s ear. 

“Ow, get off my--” 

“Watch the arm! Watch the arm!” Wesley cried. 

“Shouldn’t we stop them?” Spike inquired. 

“It’s about time the English got what’s comin’ to ’em. I’m rooting for the slave,” Angel replied. 

“Oi!” Spike exclaimed. 

Cordelia stepped in to break up the fight between Gunn and Wesley. Before Spike could throw a punch at Angel for the ‘English’ remark, Cordelia yelled, “Enough! If head cheese here has a theory, then let’s hear it.” 

“There are stories at the Watcher’s Academy of a test. A secret gauntlet which only the most cunning can survive,” Wesley explained in a holier-than-thou tone. “You’re locked in a house with a vicious, deadly vampire, and you have to kill him before he kills you. It’s been done in the past with slayers.” 

“Slayer?” Fred asked. “The band?” 

“No, it – The point is . . . this could be a test – the weapons, the maze-like locale, the innocent civilians, and the mysterious Karathmama-nyuhg demon. This is a test!” 

“I ain’t a civilian,” Gunn protested. “I’ve been killing vamps since I was twelve.” 

“Which only supports my theory,” Wesley said. “You must be here in an advisory capacity.” 

“I think I’m here in a ‘chop-that-green-bitch’s-head-off’ capacity, and I don’t give a damn about no test,” Gunn countered. 

“Are you always this grouchy?” Fred asked him. 

“Only when I wake up with a bunch of insane white folks trying to tell me what to do,” Gunn replied. “The day I take orders from guys like you is the – day I -- not even going to happen.” 

“Oh, please! Keep explaining why we’re not walking out that door,” Cordelia said sarcastically. 

“Because they did something to us,” Angel said, nodding his head as if in agreement with himself. “They changed us.” 

Cordelia’s hands flew to her head. “You mean this _is_ about my hair?” 

“I sort of see his point, even if he does hate the English,” Spike chimed in. “You don’t look seventeen. Maybe time got pushed forward, like we missed a lot of years.” 

Everyone looked at themselves and each other, searching for clues in that area. Wesley tested his bicep. Cordelia felt her breasts. 

“Well, I have filled out even more,” Cordelia declared. 

“And,” Fred examined her own cleavage before crossing her arms over her chest shamefully. “I apparently ain’t gonna.” 

“I feel cold . . . inside,” Angel said. 

“I feel strange as well,” Spike said. 

Cordelia threw her hands in the air with a cry of frustration. “This is so unfair! What about prom?!” 

“Could be that demon put a whammy on us,” Gunn suggested. 

“So, you think if we kill this vampire, they’ll take off the spell whammy and we can go back to being ourselves?” Fred asked. 

“And never see each other again?” Cordelia added. 

“I believe we can all just go about our business,” Wesley confirmed. 

“And never see each other again?” Cordelia repeated. 

“Great. So, we go vamp-hunting,” Gunn said as he went to the weapons cabinet to select an axe. “This place looks pretty big. I say three groups.” 

“I’ll go with you. You seem to know what you’re doing, unlike Princess Charles and Daisy Mae over there,” Cordelia said as she joined him. She grabbed a stake for herself while Spike and Angel chose swords. 

“We’ll look downstairs, but remember,” Wesley said. “If you find the vampire, it is a vicious animal. Just try to draw it toward us. Don’t worry. We’ll win this day, I assure you.” 

“We’ll start at the top floor and Liam and William can start on the first floor of rooms. We’ll meet somewhere in the middle,” Gunn suggested. 

**************************

Spike and Angel made it to the third floor sometime later. They hadn’t seen Gunn and Cordelia yet, nor their quarry. 

“There seem to be a lot of rooms in this place,” Spike observed. 

“Yeah, maybe we should wait and see if the others found anything,” Angel said as he entered another bedroom and sat on the bed. Spike sat next to him. 

“We really are lost, aren’t we?” Spike asked. “My mother must be worried that I haven’t shown up for supper yet.” 

Angel sighed. “I tell you, I get through this, I’m going to have a great cup of ale. I don’t care what father says it does to you.” 

“A nice port doesn’t sound bad at all,” Spike agreed. 

Silence descended on the room then. They both examined their surroundings and surreptitiously glanced at each other. 

**************************

Wesley and Fred had checked the basement and were currently skulking around the kitchen. Wesley had a normal-sized stake while Fred carried a bat that was fashioned into one. 

“I just don’t think we should be rulin’ out the idea of aliens,” Fred was saying. “I mean, he is a greenish sort of fella, and his being asleep all that time. Think about it a minute.” She stopped walking and turned to Wesley. “They could have been doing Heaven-knows-what. I can just see myself lying on the table – no clothes, no will – while they probed and explored and did whatever they wanted to my naked, helpless body.” That image caused Wesley’s dagger to shoot out of his forearm holster. Ignoring it, she continued, “It’s horrible.” 

“Horrible,” Wesley agreed with a squeak. He cleared his throat. “Yes, but I assure you, this is demonic work. And they’re not nearly as exploratory as – Don’t be afraid. We’ll not give up probe – I mean, hope.” 

**************************

Back upstairs in the bedroom, Spike and Angel still remained on the bed. 

“I feel some sort of draw to you,” Spike admitted. “I mean you clearly detest Englishmen, but I think there is something between us. I just can’t put my finger on it.” 

“I feel something towards you too,” Angel admitted as he moved closer to his companion. 

“Maybe we should take some time now before the others show up and explo--” 

Angel’s lips cut off his words. The moment they touched it was as if a missing piece had fallen into place. At first, Spike was stunned by the kiss. Then, he felt a jolt of electricity rush to his groin. He moaned as Angel pushed him back to lie on the bed and covered him. Angel took advantage of the moan and slipped his tongue inside to tease Spike’s. Spike growled at Angel’s boldness. 

Angel heard the sound, broke the kiss and pulled away slightly. “Did you just growl at me?” 

“It must be my stomach. I have no idea when I last ate,” Spike replied. 

“Are you hungry?” Angel asked. 

“I feel like I could eat a horse.” The thought of how hungry he was made Spike’s stomach actually hurt. “God, let me up.” 

“Why what’s wrong?” Angel asked confused by the hot-and-cold signals he was getting. Not two seconds after he rolled off Spike, the blonde ran to the bathroom, slammed the door and dry-heaved into the toilet. 

Angel went to the door and knocked on the panel. “Everything okay in there?” 

“Fine!” Spike said through the door. 

He stood up, leaned on the sink and looked up. There was nothing there. He couldn’t see his reflection. He started to silently panic. Where was his reflection? Were they trick mirrors? Was everyone else like this? 

“Liam, come here!” 

Angel opened the door and walked in. Spike gestured to the mirror. Angel’s jaw dropped. Spike wasn’t showing up in the mirror. Then again, his reflection wasn’t there either. 

“We’re invisible!” Spike cried. 

“No, we’re not. I can see you!” Angel said. He reached out and grabbed Spike’s shoulder and ran his hands along his chest. “I can feel you too.” 

“That’s great and all ponce, but we have _no_ reflection! Why don’t we have a bloody reflection?!” 

Angel took a step back. “Your accent changed. You lost that upper-class dialect.” 

“No it didn’t, pillock.” Spike thought about it for a moment. “Soddin’, bollocks, bint, pillock, ponce, bloody. Where the hell was I born, the East End?” 

Angel ignored Spike’s last comment in favor of the mystery of his missing reflection. He waved his hand at the mirror. Nothing was there. His was starting to get really worried. What did it mean that neither he nor Spike had a reflection? Suddenly, his face changed and the motion of the bones shifting scared him. He turned to look at Spike. “What happened?” 

Upon first sight, Spike jumped back and clung to the free-standing towel cabinet. “What happened to your face?” 

Angel saw Spike’s terrified expression. “What do you mean?” He reached up and felt his bumpy forehead and then his fangs, accidentally pricking his finger. He let out a small gasp of pain and sucked his sore finger. He tried to look in the mirror again, but nothing reflected back. As suddenly as it appeared, his vampire visage receded to his human guise. 

Not to be outdone, Spike found his spine again and stood in front of Angel. “Let me try it.” He concentrated hard and, after several minutes, felt the bones shift in his face. He turned his yellow eyes on Angel. “How do I look?” 

“You’re not hideously ugly,” Angel affirmed. 

They each took turns exercising their vamping ability. First, Angel would shift back and forth and then Spike would do it. For a few moments they changed back and forth at a rapid pace as if they were racing each other to a finish line. 

Spike leaned back against the wall, panting. “That takes a lot out of you.” 

Angel looked panic-stricken. “You know what this means don’t you?” 

“That we have super-cool powers?” Spike replied casually. 

“We’re the vampires! They’re going to kill us,” Angel nearly shrieked. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_**

Wesley was in the lobby inspecting Lorne, who was still passed out. Cordelia and Gunn came down one flight of stairs while Angel and Spike came down the opposite flight. 

“Any luck?” Wesley asked. 

“No,” Cordelia replied with a yawn. 

“We saw no vampires of any kind anywhere,” Angel and Spike added in unison. 

“Did you check every room?” 

“Only the ones that wanted turn-down service,” Cordelia replied sarcastically. She sat on the couch to rest her aching feet. “There are five floors. My feet hurt. You finish.” 

“It’s a waste of time,” Gunn said. 

“I agree,” Angel said as he and Spike tried to slyly back away towards the door. 

“There’s nothing here,” Spike said. 

“This place is evil, and I think we,” Angel gestured between Spike and himself, “should leave now, because of evil.” 

Wesley rushed after Angel. “Don’t be a fool.” 

Spike saw the former Watcher advance on him. He panicked and ran out the door. 

Angel saw the quick, almost-comical departure and tossed a “Good luck, all!” over his shoulder before he followed Spike. 

Absentmindedly polishing his axe, Gunn glared at Wesley. “So, we’re all locked in, huh?” 

“Excuse me, can we get back to the horrible spell that changed my hair!” Cordelia said. 

“Do you think they’re okay out there?” Fred asked worriedly. “What if something’s out there eating them?” 

“If something’s eating them, at least they ain’t as bored as me,” Gunn replied sardonically. 

“Joke all you like,” Wesley said. “Liam and William may be facing horrors they’ve never even imagined right now.” 

**************************

Spike and Angel ran through the garden to the street. They were about to cross it when a horn blared. They both grabbed each other like a safety line and stepped back onto the sidewalk. This strange world had paved streets and shiny beings with wheels. They squinted at the bright lights. It was like something out of a Bradbury novel. 

“What the bloody hell kind of dimension is this?” Spike asked as he watched the cars and trucks speed by. 

“I don’t know. Let’s get out of here,” Angel suggested as he tugged Spike back by his shirt. 

They ran back towards the hotel through the garden. He shoved Spike inside the hotel first and then followed, slamming the door behind him. 

“Liam! William!” Fred acknowledged. 

“Demons?!” Angel panicked. 

“Really?” Wesley turned to Gunn and gloated, “Told you.” Gunn stood up with his axe ready. “How many?” 

“Hundreds, screaming,” Spike panted. 

Fred took shelter behind a pillar. “Will they try to get in?” 

“Don’t think they saw us,” Spike replied. 

“I guess you really better solve this puzzle,” Fred said, addressing Wesley. 

“Why type of demons would you say they were?” Wesley asked. 

“Shiny!” Angel squeaked. 

“So, does that mean we got to check the rest of the rooms? ’Cause I’m bored just saying it,” Gunn said. 

“Wouldn’t the vampire be comin’ after us anyhow? Aren’t we vittles?” Fred asked. 

“And he should be starving, by rule. But I also happen to think that further searching would be pointless. I think the Council has been far cleverer than I imagined,” Wesley replied. 

“Ooh. How?” 

“Yes, give us another rousing speech again,” Gunn said mockingly. 

“Six people, each unknown to each other, far from home, trapped together at night – I submit that the blood-sucking fiend may be closer than we dared suspect. That it may be --” 

“We’ll search the rooms,” Spike volunteered all-too-quickly. 

“I was getting to the good part!” Wesley whined. 

“We can’t just wait for the vampire to appear. So, William and I will flush him out,” Angel said. 

Wesley jumped up and down excitedly as he rushed to say, “It may be one of us!” 

Cordelia didn’t look convinced. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“Would that I were, Miss Chase, but the simple fact is . . . the fiend has been under our noses the entire time, waiting for the moment to . . .” As he explained his theory, Wesley took a wooden cross out of his breast pocket and shoved it in Gunn’s face. “Strike!” 

Almost by reflex, Gunn punched Wesley in the face and knocked him to the ground. 

“See?” Angel whispered to Spike. “The English is stupid.” Addressing the room, he said, “Let’s have a different theory.” 

Having heard enough digs about the English, Spike punched Angel and knocked him down. He jumped on the bigger man and tried to strangle him while simultaneously beating his head on the floor. 

“Excuse me!” Wesley called out. Spike and Angel stopped as if someone had hit pause on their fight. They looked at the former Watcher. He was holding a wooden cross. “I’m not quite finished. I think it’s only fair that everybody have a turn. This cross obviously doesn’t affect me or our friend,” he gestured to Gunn, “the pugilist.” 

Gunn glared at Wesley. “Oh, your ass better pray I don’t look that word up.” 

Spike and Angel let go of each other and got up off the floor. Cordelia snatched the cross from Wesley and waved it around in front of herself. When nothing happened, she scoffed and tossed it to Fred. Fred scanned her body with the cross in an imitation of an airport security guard. She handed the cross to Spike who held it for five seconds and tossed it to Angel like a hot potato when his hand started to singe. Angel gripped the cross, despite the fact that it was starting to burn him. When his hand started to smoke, he put it down by his side where the others couldn’t notice. 

“See. No vampires here,” Angel commented. 

“We’re just like the rest of you,” Spike said. 

Fred started to smell burnt flesh. “Does anyone else here--?” 

“Look, the Devil’s awake,” Angel said, distracting her. 

While everyone went to investigate Lorne, Angel tossed the cross over his shoulder. 

“Don’t get too close,” Wesley warned. 

Lorne came to with a groan. “Guys, hey, that was quite a whammy. A little trip through the transitive nightfall of diamonds, if you know what I mean. Well, I certainly don’t but --” 

“He speaks madness,” Angel said in awe. 

Lorne looked down at himself. “Hey, here’s a funny sidebar.” He tried to wiggle out his restraints. “I’m tied to a chair – again! What the hell’s going on?” 

“We were hoping you would enlighten us, Spawn of Evil,” Wesley said. 

“Oh, dear,” Lorne sighed. “I’m starting to suspect that my sure-fire hit spell closed out of town. Did anything go right? Anything at all? Did Cordy at least get her memory back?” 

“Just tell us where the vampire is, fiend,” Wesley demanded. Behind him, Angel and Spike froze. 

“What are you talking about? There aren’t any vampires here,” Lorne replied. Spike sighed in relief. “Well, I mean, except for our boys over there.” 

“Lying devil-man,” Angel accused. 

“I’m not a vampire. I’m a proper gentleman. Except for that one time upstairs,” Spike said defensively. 

“Oh, like my spell made you not a vampire anymore,” Lorne scoffed. “My magic isn’t that --” 

Angel cut him off by a punch to the jaw that sent Lorne and the settee spinning across the room. 

“It’s not --” Spike started to say. 

“He just --” Angel cut in. 

“Well,” Wesley puffed out his chest in triumph. “Our mystery is solved.” 

“That explains the lame-ass cover story about being Irish, too,” Gunn agreed. 

“Vampires are all the same, my friend. There’s nothing human about them,” Wesley said as he tried to engage the weapons on his arms. 

Gunn held his axe menacingly. “That’s right. You ain’t a person. Just dust waitin’ to happen.” 

“We don’t want to hurt anyone,” Angel said. 

A stake suddenly shot out of Wesley’s forearm and landed in Angel’s side. Spike stared in horror. Then, he shifted into his demon and attacked Wesley. Angel’s demon came to the forefront as he attacked Gunn. He wrestled the axe away from Gunn and threw him across the room. 

Angel turned to the others in the room, still wearing the face of his demon. “You want a vampire, then? I guess we’re it. I guess I’ll start feeding on your corpses. Starting with the girls! So, who’s going to be the first course? Hard to choose between you two --” 

Cordelia popped up from behind the chair where she’d been hiding. “What do you mean ‘it’s hard’?” she asked indignantly. Then she thought about what she said and her eyes went wide. I mean, she’s the tasty one.” She pointed at Fred. “Look at her! Half of her is neck.” Fred shrugged to hide her neck. 

Suddenly, Wesley activated the sword in his forearm holster. “Miss Chase, Miss Burkle, run.” 

The girls ran away while Wesley charged towards Angel with his sword. Wesley took a swing at Angel, but the dark vampire just punched him in the nose and knocked him to the ground. Angel and Spike shared a look and chased after the girls. Angel took off after Cordelia while Spike went after Fred. 

Fred’s time in Pylea made her cunning in the ways of eluding the enemy. She ran down the halls and stairways until she found herself back in the lobby again with the demon and an unconscious Gunn. 

“Uh, sweetie?” Lorne hedged when he saw her. 

Fred gasped and tried to make herself as small as possible. “Yes?” 

“Uh, can I take a minute of your time? We have a huge problem, but I can solve it,” Lorne explained. 

“Why should I trust you?” Fred asked warily. 

“’Cause we’re buddies, Fredikins,” Lorne said jovially. “We did a spell – it went wrong, but we can make it right. Is the bottle still there on the floor, in the circle?” 

Fred peeked out of her hiding place and looked at the painted circle. “You mean those bittty bits of broken glass?” 

“Damn,” Lorne cursed. “Well, we can still do it . . . maybe one at a time. You just got to untie me first.” 

“I don’t know,” she said uncertainly. 

“Oh, Fred,” Lorne groaned in disappointment. “Look into your heart. Am I evil?” 

Fred scrutinized him while she thought it over. Aside from the horns and the green skin, he didn’t seem evil. Tentatively, she grabbed a box cutter and went over to cut him free. 

“Thanks, lamb-chop,” Lorne said as he got up to find the ingredients for his concoction. He mixed the potion while Fred stood there with her eyes clenched shut and her tongue stuck out. 

“Hurry up, I’m nervous,” she mumbled. 

“Ok. Ok.” Lorne placed a drop of the potion on Fred’s tongue with his finger. 

She cringed and shuddered at the awful taste. “Oh, Lord.” 

“Well, did it work?” Lorne asked anxiously. 

Behind him Gunn came to, got up off the floor with a weapon and was in mid-swing when Fred yelled, “WAIT!” 

Lorne whipped around to see Gunn with his axe raised. 

“Don’t kill him, Charles!” Fred said. 

Gunn lowered his axe, confusion written on his face. He never told them his first name. How would this girl know it? “Why shouldn’t I?” 

“You’ll see, stick out your tongue,” Fred replied. 

Gunn shook his head at the absurd request, but stuck his tongue out anyway. Lorne repeated the action with Gunn. Two seconds later, the vampire hunter seemed to come back to himself. Fred ran off in search of the others. Soon, everyone was gathered in the lobby. Lorne gave a bit of the potion to each member: Wesley, Spike, Angel. When it came time for Cordelia’s turn, she made a face at the dreadful taste. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she took off running up the stairs to her room. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_**

Spike stood at the French doors leading to the balcony. He leaned against the frame as he looked out at the nighttime L.A. skyline. Things were more confusing now than they were before Lorne’s spell. He didn’t know how Cordelia felt when she came back to herself. But, he still felt like he was in someone else’s skin. The spell did nothing for him. He remembered what happened during the spell like it was a dream. 

“Spike?” 

Angel’s soft voice could be heard in the darkness of the room. Spike didn’t even hear the door open and close. Spike looked down at his bare feet. The movement was the only acknowledgement Angel had that Spike heard him. 

“Do you remember?” Angel asked cryptically. 

“I remember a lot of things. The memory spell wasn’t for me. It was for Cordy. Shouldn’t you be asking her that question?” Spike asked with a tilt of his head in Angel’s direction, but still not looking at him. 

“For one thing, Cordelia’s locked herself in her room and ignoring anyone who knocks on the door. For another, she’s not the one I’m mated to,” Angel replied. 

“Funny you remember that much,” Spike scoffed. 

A tick developed in Angel’s jaw at that comment. He stormed across the room and grabbed Spike’s arm, jerking the younger vampire around to face him. 

“I’m not the one that cheated on my mate with my assignment,” Angel growled. 

“Well, you sure as bloody hell didn’t want me around here either,” Spike shot back. 

“I was doing what I had to in order to protect you. I tried so hard to protect you and look where it got us. You nearly died when Holtz shot you with that poisoned stake,” Angel said. 

“You don’t have to rehash the events for me, Angel. I know how it went down. I was there. I was also there when you told me to get out once I was healed. I only did what you wanted. Like always,” Spike said angrily. 

“And you thought I wanted you to get a soul? How did you come to that conclusion?” Angel asked curiously. 

“Why would anyone do something for another person? Why did you feel the need to send me away and protect me from Holtz? Why does it bother you so much that I fucked Buffy?” 

“Because you’re mine, damn it!” Angel yelled. 

“Oh, so I’m an obligation now? If I’d known that I wouldn’t have gotten this ruddy soul at all. I’d just have flung myself off the soddin’ boat and sunk like a stone,” Spike shot back. 

“Everything I did was because I love you! You fucking Buffy bothered me because I love you!” Angel yelled, oblivious to what he just admitted. 

“Well, so do I, you great pillock!” Spike yelled back. “Why’d you have to be such an ass when all you had to do was tell me?” 

“I just did!” Angel said. 

“I know!” 

“Then, why are you yelling at me?” 

“I’m not! You’re yelling at me. I just raised my voice to be heard over your prattle,” Spike countered. 

Angel couldn’t take anymore arguing. He suddenly tugged Spike against him and sealed his mouth over Spike’s in a passionate kiss. Spike was astonished at first, but then returned the kiss.


	4. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

 

##  _Chapter 54: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 4)_

**_Los Angeles, Angel’s Suite_**

One minute, Spike and Angel were arguing and the next they were fused at the mouth. Before he could blink, Spike found himself flat on the bed. His eyes never left Angel as he started to crab-crawl towards the pillows. Angel’s dark eyes followed his progress and then advanced on his mate in a slow panther crawl up the bed. Angel straddled Spike’s hips and held his wrists down on the pillow on either side of him before he took his mate’s mouth in a possessive kiss. 

Angel released Spike only long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head and then buried his face against the curve of Spike’s neck, biting the skin with blunt teeth. He reached down between them to undo Spike’s belt, yanking the strip of leather out through the belt loops and tossed it over the side of the bed. With that out of the way, he set to work on ridding Spike of his jeans, growling in frustration when they wouldn’t open fast enough. 

Once the jeans were open, Angel was off the bed, pulling the shoes and then the pants off his mate. Climbing back onto the bed, Spike met him half way and popped the buttons on Angel’s jeans just enough to reach in and wrap his fingers around his Sire’s cock. Angel let out a growl as he attacked Spike’s mouth again. The kiss was violent and possessive as Angel ground himself against Spike, thrusting into his hand. 

Breaking the kiss, gasping for unneeded breath, Angel tugged his own shirt over his head, too impatient to undo the buttons. Spike took the initiative and tugged the pants down over Angel’s hips. Angel pulled them off and tossed them onto the growing pile on the floor. Then, he pounced on Spike again like a starving man. All those months away from each other had finally caught up. 

“Love you, baby boy. Need you now,” Angel growled as he reached for the bottle of hand cleanser on the bedside table. 

Spike hissed as Angel pressed the nozzle against him and squeezed the cool liquid inside him. He should be lucky that Angel remembered the lube at all, given the countless times they’d made due without. He barely saw Angel toss the bottle to the side before his mate rubbed the tip of his erection against his hole and then pushed inside. 

“Angel!” Spike growled at the sudden intrusion. 

His protest was cut off when Angel’s mouth came down on his in a bruising kiss. Angel grabbed him around the waist and rolled them over until Spike was on top, straddling his Sire’s hips. Spike thought he’d have better control this way, but Angel refused to let go. Angel kissed down his mate’s throat and held him in place as he thrust up into him. 

“Fuck, Angel,” Spike groaned as he tried to meet his Sire’s thrusts as best he could in the pinned position he was in. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

“It sounds like all is right in the Heavens,” Fred commented as she opened the weapons cabinet. 

“Yeah, sounds like the fang duo are back together,” Gunn, agreed as he grabbed a battle-axe. 

There was an echo of lusty growls in the cavernous hotel. The sounds had been going on for the last few hours. Gunn and Fred barely got any sleep since Angel brought Spike back to the hotel. 

**************************

**_Angel’s Suite_**

Their first hour of frantic, desperate, ravenous sex resulted in injuries that a human would describe as bordering on horrific, but the deep scratches and punctures yielded precious blood to lips and tongues seeking fundamental unification. 

Satiated by the first accumulation of lust, Angel only bit Spike twice during their second hour of coupling – once by accident. 

Spike was impressed during their third hour when Angel managed to invent one or two positions they hadn’t tried, which Spike had thought impossible since they’d gone through so many. 

By hour four, they’d finally slowed down to gentler movements until Spike found his release and collapsed on the bed. Angel fell on the mattress next to him. The hotel was quieter now. Usually, he could hear Gunn and Fred moving around in the lobby. He turned to look at his companion and found Spike dozing. 

“Spike?” 

Spike hummed sleepily. 

“Move in with me permanently,” Angel suggested. It seemed innocent enough to his ears. 

Spike’s eyes snapped opened at the request. “What?” 

“Close down the mansion and move into the hotel with me – us,” Angel clarified. He didn’t see anything wrong with the idea. Spike hadn’t been in the mansion for nearly a year anyway. He’d either been at the hotel, Cordy’s or Africa. 

“What brought this on?” Spike asked confused. After the workout he just experienced, he wanted to sleep. Angel wanted to have a coherent conversation. After all the years of bouncing him like a yo-yo, his Sire decided to let him move in for good? This had to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was another way to clear his conscience. Now that his childe had a soul, he couldn’t very well turn him out now, could he? 

“Now that you have a soul, I thought if you were closer to me, I’d help you deal with that and --” Angel started to explain, confirming Spike’s suspicions without realizing it. 

Spike had been listening to Angel’s speech with half an ear. When the words finally sunk in, his brows furrowed in anger and he bolted from the bed, nearly tripping when his foot got caught in the tangled sheets. “I’m not bloody well moving in with you so that you can have a guilt-free conscience.” 

“—Now that we have our feelings for each other out in the open,” Angel finished in bewilderment at Spike’s outburst. “I don’t want two-hundred miles – or any amount of distance – between us if I can help it.” 

Spike paced the floor beside the bed. The mansion was his getaway when he was pissed at Angel or his prison when Angel decided to banish him to Sunnydale ‘For the Greater Good.’ Now, Angel wanted him to move in permanently? Where the hell could he escape to when he was angry at Angel? 

Angel was getting more frustrated with each pass. He didn’t see the dilemma in his suggestion. Spike had been nagging at him for years to let him stay. Now that he suggested it, Spike scoffed at him. Besides, it would be easier to watch over his mate here to see if there were any signs that he was having difficulty coping with a soul much as Darla had. When Spike didn’t answer him, Angel got out of bed and pulled his clothes back on. Giving his mate one last glance before he headed for the door. 

Upon opening it, Angel paused long enough to say, “If you can’t see how I feel then what the hell am I trying so hard for?” With that, he walked out and closed the door behind him. 

Spike stopped wearing a path in the threadbare carpet and looked up at the sound of the door latching. He was surprised to find himself alone. He wasn’t completely back to his old self no matter what confident airs he put on for the rest of the team. He just needed time to work things out in his head. Surely, Angel of all people would understand that. Sighing, he put his clothes back on and left the room following in Angel’s wake. 

**************************

On the second floor of the hotel, Lorne caught up with Angel as he walked through the corridor. 

“Angelcakes, I’m glad I ran into you. Well, not so much run into you as --” Lorne started to say cheerily. 

“What do you want, Lorne?” Angel asked brusquely. 

Lorne took a step back as if the vampire had threatened to attack him. “Whoa, Mr. Grumpy! Did we wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” 

“No,” Angel replied. 

“Lover’s tiff then?” Lorne suggested. 

“No!” Angel replied even more annoyed and kept walking down the hall to the stairs. “Was there something you wanted?” 

“Yes there was, before your dark cloud came looming over our heads. I think we should talk to Cordelia,” Lorne started to say. 

“No,” Angel cut in with a tone of finality as he descended the staircase to the lobby. 

“Why?” Lorne asked as he followed close behind. 

“No,” Angel stressed the word. 

“Why?!” Lorne asked emphatically. 

“Cause I said no,” Angel shot back. 

“And I said ‘why’,” Lorne countered. “Now, let’s meet in the middle with a ‘why no?’” 

“It’s too soon,” Angel said, heading for the front desk. 

“But she got her memory back,” Lorne said as he followed Angel. “Aren’t you a weensy curious if Cordy remembers _anything_ from her little stint as a Miss Higher Power? Oh, say, maybe something about the thing-a-ma-bad that Wolfram  & Hart sucked outta my noggin?” 

“We need to give her time to adjust before we start coming at her with a million questions,” Angel said exasperated by Lorne’s badgering. 

“How about one? One’s good,” Lorne suggested hopefully. 

Angel threw his hands in the air. “In a couple of days when she’s more herself.” 

“Spike, you want to chime in here? Your mate is being immobile on the subject,” Lorne said. 

Angel had been so busy deflecting Lorne over Cordelia’s memory that he didn’t see Spike come down the stairs. He watched the blonde vampire walk past him without even a glance in his direction and go behind the reception desk. 

“Angelus has always been obstinate,” Spike commented nonchalantly. Angel however did not miss the use of his full name. His childe was upset with him for some reason and he couldn’t figure out why. 

“Where did Fred and Gunn go anyway?” Angel asked, changing the subject. 

Spike held up a memo note. “Says here they went to Hancock Park. Some woman heard spooky sounds in her pipes.” 

Angel turned to Lorne and gestured at Spike. “See? The worst thing we got going is a haunted toilet, so let’s give Cordy a little space. It’s not like the world is going to end right this second.” 

The words no sooner left his mouth then they heard a scream upstairs. All three demons practically flew up the steps to Cordelia’s room and nearly broke the door down bursting in. Cordelia was sitting up in bed gasping either from the shock of her door slamming open or the dream she had Angel wasn’t sure. 

Spike’s the one that moved first. In seconds he was sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping her shoulders. 

“What is it?” he asked anxiously. 

Angel and Lorne moved closer to be the bed looking around for the possible threat. 

“Oh, G --” was all Cordelia managed to get out. 

“Are you all right?” Spike asked. When she just stared unseeing at him, he shook her. “Cordy!” 

Suddenly, Cordelia broke down sobbing. She leaned on Spike who held her while looking over his shoulder at Angel and Lorne who wore identical dumbfounded expressions. It was as if they never before encountered a woman who burst into hysterical crying jags. 

Spike, having his own issues with his newly acquired soul, glared at his Sire and the Pylean who left him to deal with Cordelia. He pulled away to look at her. 

“Looks like you haven’t slept since you came back,” Spike observed, brushing the hair out of her eyes. 

“I know,” Cordelia admitted in a small voice. “Every time I close my eyes, I . . .” 

“What?” Angel asked. 

Cordelia blinked and looked at Angel and Lorne as if she hadn’t noticed them before or forgotten they were there. “I see it: something horrible moving deep down, clawing its way up.” 

“It was just a dream, muffin,” Lorne said soothingly, “But while we’re on the subject --” 

“Lorne! Not now,” Angel hissed. 

“I can taste the blood of all the people it’s going to kill,” Cordelia said anxiously. “I can smell the stench of burning flesh.” 

“It’s okay, Cordy,” Angel said. “You’re safe.” 

Cordelia shook her head. “No one’s safe. Don’t you understand that? It’s coming, and no one can stop it. I feel it. The thing in my dreams . . . it’s real, and it’s almost here.” 

“What does that mean?” Angel asked confused. 

“It means it’s time to hit the books,” Lorne replied. 

“And search for what: Some unknown evil entity that may or may not show up in the near and distant future? Do we have a time line to even know where to begin to look?” Spike asked. “I don’t think the Demon Database covers that. Or, if it does, it’s a broad range of suspects.” 

“When did you become so knowledgeable on the subject?” Angel asked amazed by his childe’s intelligence. 

“Sod off, Angel,” Spike shot back as he helped Cordelia to her feet and led her out of the room in search of food. 

Angel looked bewildered at Lorne. “What did I say?” 

Lorne shrugged and walked out of the room, leaving Angel to follow. 

**************************

**_Hyperion Lobby_**

They hadn’t set foot on the ground floor before phone rang. Lorne jogged over to the reception desk and answered it. Angel grabbed the nearest weapon, started cleaning it in preparation of a possible case and proceeded to brood over the enigma that was Spike and Spike’s refusal to move in with him. 

“Snakes? Uh-huh. And they came out of your what? Okay, okay, well did they get up there themselves, or is this part of a, you know, a thing,” Lorne was saying. He laughed nervously when the caller berated him for being judgmental. “No, I’m not judging!” He put the phone down and asked, “Do we fight snakes?” 

Angel, brooding and polishing his sword, said with an air of boredom, “Only if they’re giant . . . or demons . . . or giant demons.” He jerked around to face Lorne, “Are they giant demon snakes?” 

Lorne shrugged. “Unless this guy’s thirty feet tall, I’m thinking they’re of the garden variety.” 

Angel sighed disappointingly. “Oh. They could still be demonic. Are they making any kind of weird demon-y sounds?” 

“Is who making any weird demon-y sounds?” Spike asked as he came in with a glass of blood. 

“Giant demon snakes on the phone,” Angel said as he was brought up short. 

Watching Spike drink, his throat reflex as he swallowed made Angel want to latch on to his jugular and drink him as he drank the blood. Angel stood transfixed for a moment before shaking his head to clear that image out of his mind. It took another minute to realize Spike was speaking. 

“Are these giant demon snakes the type that lured Eve to give the apple to Adam? Cause that could mean the Apocalypse is about to start,” Spike said. 

Lorne put his hand to the receiver long enough to reply, “Garden variety.” 

“Oh,” Spike said disappointed. 

**************************

Outside the hotel, Fred and Gunn came in through the garden on their way back from the last case. Fred led the way up the terrace steps to the front door. 

“Nasty pink-nosed bastards,” Gunn complained, “I can still feel them crawling on me.” 

Fred shuddered at the memory of a bathroom full of mice. “I’m going to take a long bath and scrub ’til my skin stops twitching.” 

Gunn perked up at the mention of a bath. “Can we have bubbles?” 

Fred turned to face him, a look of apprehension on her face. “I was kinda looking forward to a quiet soak alone.” 

“Oh,” Gunn shrugged. “Yeah, okay.” 

“It’s just – Forget it, we’ll squeeze in.” Fred felt nauseous the second those words left her mouth and now she couldn’t take them back. The new tub that Angel and Spike got her was definitely big enough for the both of them and they’d tried it on more than one occasion. Gunn knew it too and he could see the lie written all over her face. 

Gunn didn’t correct her though. He gave her a weak smile that made her feel worse. “No, no, you go ahead. I’ll grab one later.” 

Fred cringed at the biting tone in Gunn’s voice. Six months ago, they were a normal happy couple. Spike and Angel had invited them on that vacation trip to Colorado and they were . . . not like this. “Can we not do this?” 

“You mean have a meaningful conversation the way that two people who love each other are supposed to?” Gunn suggested with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Fine,” Fred nodded. “We’ll do this.” 

“Fred, what do you want from me?” Gunn asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear.” 

“That’s not what I meant!” 

“You sure? We don’t talk. We sleep on opposite sides of the bed. We haven’t even touched each other since –” 

“Since we murdered Professor Seidel,” Fred finished for him. 

This was Gunn’s reality – his version of what he thought happened between them. In her reality, it started before Professor Seidel’s murder. She tried, really tried, to make it work after her mistake with Angel. They were both hurting – Angel over the sudden departure of Spike and her over her break-up with Gunn. One thing led to another and it never should have happened at all. But it did. And now It and Professor Seidel’s murder was between them. Only Gunn didn’t know that. He didn’t know that she started sleeping on the opposite side of the bed because she felt like she betrayed him in a moment of weakness. The guilt of that ate at her until she couldn’t even be with Gunn intimately. 

From the sounds of it, though, their unfaithfulness to those they loved hadn’t put Angel off one bit. He and Spike were still going at it like bunnies. Then again, when she thought about it, Angel and Spike were a century old. That was a lot history and baggage between them. They probably learned to deal with it a whole lot better than she was doing. Unless Angel never told Spike about it. But, even then, they had a mind link didn’t they? Wouldn’t Spike have seen it anyway? Not really, because Angel didn’t know Spike had slept with Buffy until Spike had his guard down when he was unconscious after being shot by Holtz. Maybe cheating on each other was par for the course with them, but not her. 

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Gunn that, so she avoided making eye contact and went with their murder of Professor Seidel. 

“No. Since I did,” Gunn corrected. 

“For me,” Fred insisted. 

“I couldn’t let you carry that,” Gunn said softly. 

“It wasn’t your choice!” 

“Fred, that’s not who you are. It isn’t in your heart.” 

“But, it’s in yours?” she challenged. 

“It is now.” There it was. The truth Gunn accepted: his admission that he murdered someone for her. And yet, it was a mercy killing because unlike Fred, the Professor wouldn’t be able to endure a portal. Fred came out nearly crazy after five years of fending for herself in Pylea. Gunn couldn’t see the Professor surviving a portal of his own making. 

That secret hung heavily in the air between them, as were many others. 

“I have to go,” Fred said as she started to cry. Running down the stairs, she tossed over her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” _For so many things._

“Fred!” Gunn called out as she left the garden. He wouldn’t follow. He just watched her leave. 

**************************

Gunn walked inside the hotel to see Angel inspecting the artillery in the weapons cabinet. Lorne was working the phones at the reception desk. They were ringing off the hook, faster than he could answer them. 

“No, no, that certainly doesn’t sound normal for a boy his age,” Lorne was saying. “Look, we’ll send someone out as soon as we can. Just, um . . . just don’t poke it.” 

Lorne hung up as Gunn handed over his battle-axe to Angel. 

“Hey, how’d it go?” Angel asked as he took the weapon. 

“Where’s Fred?” Spike inquired. 

“Bad. Out,” Gunn replied flatly. The phone ringing saved him from elaborating. “I’ll get it.” 

“Bless you and all your parts,” Lorne praised as he handed over the message log and went over to Angel. 

Gunn took the memo pad and answered the phone. “Angel Investigations. Uh huh, and what is the nature of your manifestation?” 

“Business is really humming, huh?” Lorne commented, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Yeah, word of mouth, I guess, got around that I’m back.” Angel replied as he inspected two different weapons. “Do you think I should keep these alphabetical or rearrange them by how much damage they inflict?” 

“Damage,” Lorne said. “Nomenclature goes out the portal when hacking’s a-foot.” 

“Still,” Angel pondered. “It’s good to know what you’re using. I mean if I’m fighting a Glurgg and I ask for a Khopesh to finish him off. What would you throw me?” 

“A towel,” Spike scoffed from behind him as he cleaned a weapon. “Glurgg’s are ninety percent puss.” 

Lorne looked between the vampires. He was picking up a rancorous vibe between them. Whatever grudge they had going on, at least they were still talking. “Yeah, uh, not speaking of sticky fluids, maybe we should get some help around the office. Like say: a certain somebody with a good understanding of Higher Dimensions? Someone who could tell me what got Hoovered out of my head?” 

“Now’s not a good time. After everything she’s been through, the last thing she need is, us coming at her with a million questions she probably has no answer for. Give her a chance to work things. In a couple of days everything will be back to the way it was.” 

Just then they heard a scream from the kitchen and then a crashing sound. They ran into the room led by Spike. They were greeted to the sight of Cordelia going through a seizure. Spike and Angel ran over and grab hold of either arm and sat her up so that she wouldn’t crack her head on the floor. 

“Cordy!” Angel yelled. 

“What’s going on, luv?” Spike asked. 

“He’s coming. He’s coming now!” she said in delirium before she passed out. 

“Okay, let’s her get up,” Angel said. 

They got to their feet and he bent to pick her up, carrying her to one of the couches in the lobby. Angel laid her down. Spike perched on one of the arms of the couch as Lorne appeared with a glass of water. Gunn was too busy manning the phones to drop the receiver and come to see, so he turned his body to watch the latest drama unfold while still pretending to care about the caller’s dilemma. 

Angel was pacing the floor beside the couch when Cordelia came around. When he noticed she was awake he said, “You still have your visions. I thought they weren’t supposed to hurt anymore.” 

“This wasn’t normal,” Cordelia sighed. Angel moved closer to the couch, waiting for her to elaborate. She sat up and took the water Lorne offered, “If that word actually applies to anything that ever happens to me. The visions are usually like a lawn sprinkler. This was like Niagara.” 

“You should be sleeping, pet,” Spike commented. He could see the dark circles under her eyes. 

“I’m okay,” she said with a tired smile. 

“What else can you tell me?” Angel asked. 

Cordelia looked up at him. “It’s big, powerful, clawing its way up through the bowels of the earth to slaughter us all.” She nodded her head. “Yeah, that pretty much covers it.” 

“Did you see anything that could give us a location?” Angel asked. 

“No, just the big beastie,” Cordelia sat up. “It’s coming, Angel, and it won’t stop – not until we’re all – It won’t stop.” 

“Spike’s right,” Angel said which caused Spike to look up in shock that Angel agreed with him on anything. “You should probably get some sleep.” 

“Yeah, because impending doom – almost as good as warm milk,” Cordelia said sardonically. 

Angel shrugged. “Whatever’s coming, I’ll figure out a way to stop it.” 

“You? Who says it has to be you?” Spike asked. 

Cordelia shook her head. “It’ll be too late. I can feel it. There’s something – I don’t know. I think I know more about this thing – or, I knew more when I was all High and Mighty, but I just can’t get at it.” 

“What if Lorne read you again?” Spike asked. 

“Do you think he would after what happened the first time?” 

Three sets of eyes turned to Lorne. Angel assessed him. “We could hold him down.” 

“Hey!” Lorne said indignantly as he got up and answered another line. 

“We need to know more. I need to know.” 

At the reception desk, Gunn was on the phone telling the caller, “I’m sorry. I know, but we’re pretty swamped right now. Well, if Snowball hasn’t tried to eat your spine yet, hit her with the catnip until we get there.” 

“Oh please, yeah, describe it in detail,” Lorne was telling his caller. When the person proceeded to do just that, he put the receiver to his chest and addressed Gunn, “Hey, uh, this isn’t letting up. How about, uh, rustling up some adorable reinforcements?” 

“I don’t know where she is,” Gunn said as he hung up and jotted down the memo. 

“That’s where the rustling comes in,” Lorne suggested. 

“If Fred wanted to be here, she would,” Gunn replied in a clipped tone that got the attention of the vampires. 

Lorne raised the phone to his ear. “Uh, yeah, that sounds horrible. Hold please.” He hung up without putting the caller on hold and looked worried at Gunn. “Are you two okay?” 

“Ask her that. Maybe she’ll talk to you,” Gunn sighed. 

The phone rang again and Lorne picked up. “Angel Investigations. Hold please.” He hung up and went around the counter to give Gunn his full attention. “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on between cupcake and her icing, but you know how she feels about you. It doesn’t take horns and a beautiful singing voice to be able to read that.” 

“It’s just – it’s been hard since that thing with her Professor,” Gunn admitted. 

“Well, being stuck in Pylea is pretty crappy, but being sent there on purpose by someone you trust – Hey, at least Dr. Ego got a taste of his own portal,” Lorne surmised. 

“Yeah,” Gunn gave Lorne a small smile. “He got what he deserved, didn’t he?” 

Angel and Spike had been listening in on the conversation when there was a thud against the windowpane of the front doors. Spike got up to investigate. He cracked the door open to see what the object was and then opened it wider. 

“It’s a sparrow. The bloody thing slammed right into the glass,” Spike announced. 

“Close the door, Spike!” Lorne said alarmed. 

“You want me to leave a dying bird --” Spike started to say. 

“Close it!” Lorne shouted. 

Spike looked up just in time to see a swarm of sparrows headed towards him. He slammed the door shut just as the sparrows hit the glass so hard that they exploded, leaving blood splatters all over the doors and windows. 

“I’m guessing this isn’t a good sign,” Gunn said as he took in the new red color decorating the frosted glass. 

“Yeah, as harbingers go – not so much,” Lorne agreed. 

“Someone might know what it means though,” Angel said as he headed for his office to get his car keys. As he came back through the lobby shrugging on his coat, he added, “I’ll be back in a while.” 

“Where are you going?” Spike asked. “It’s raining birds and sod all else out there.” 

“Going to check on a resource,” Angel replied before he went down the basement steps and into the sewers. 

“I’m getting really sick and tired of being a babysitter,” Spike grumbled to himself. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

Following her afternoon tryst with Wesley, Lilah was on the phone, reading some lackey the riot act as she headed down the hallway to her office. 

“A three hundred percent increase – in the last hour? Uh-huh. Oh, you think? Well then, don’t think. Just shut up and give me an incident report cross-referenced by region, socioeconomic backgrounds, and species. Oh, and get Gavin up here. Somebody’s trying to muscle in on our apocalypse and that is not going to happen while --” She stopped mid-threat when she opened her office door to see Angel perched on her desk. “Let me get back to you.” She ended the call and stared agape at the vampire in her office. 

“Close the door,” Angel commanded. 

“How did you get in here?” Lilah asked as she complied with the instruction only because she didn’t feel it necessary to give passersby something to gawk at. “Vampire detectors my ass,” she grumbled. “Well, here we are, all nice and cozy. Let’s talk about – hmm, gee, let me guess – Lorne? How’s he doing by the way? Still green?” 

“I told you we were going to have a conversation,” Angel reminded her. 

“Swell, but I’m having a bit of a day. So, let’s say we skip the usual two-step: you threaten me, I threaten you, yadda, yadda, yawn, and jump directly to the throwing you out on your thick meaty head. ’Cause you know what, you’re not getting anything out of me this time either.” 

“I didn’t think I would, but Gavin – he was more accommodating,” Angel said casually as he looked behind her. 

Lilah turned around to see Gavin bound and gagged on her leather couch. She smirked at her co-worker’s predicament and glanced at Angel. “Couldn’t you have at least tortured him a little bit more?” 

“I really wanted to, but he wouldn’t stop talking long enough for me to get into it,” Angel said as he tossed a file on her desk that he had perused while awaiting her arrival. 

“I have a cure for that,” Lilah said as she walked around her desk. It was good to have a guard between her and the vampire that wanted her dead on several past occasions. 

“Vindict on your own time,” Angel sighed tiredly. “I’m kind of on a clock here.” 

“What did he tell you?” 

“That you’re trying to decipher what you took out of Lorne’s head. Hundreds of psychics probing and prodding – well, not quite that many now because every time they peel back a layer, their brains end up decorating the walls. Sound about right?” 

Lilah scoffed at how much truth was in those words. Gavin had been spilling company secrets to the enemy. Maybe she could use this knowledge later in assorted blackmail schemes waged against her annoying co-worker. “You should see the cleaning bill. Now _that_ is terrifying.” 

“Anything you got on what’s coming, now would be a good time,” Angel said. 

“Now that big on sharing,” Lilah said derisively. 

“Think I’m joking,” Angel threatened. 

“Not unless you’ve conjured up a sense of humor to go with that soul. Look, you got it straight from the weasel’s mouth. Whatever Lorne gleaned from reading Wonder Girl – it’s protected. Try to unlock it – ka-blooey. Thanks for stopping by.” 

“You’re trying to hide it. I can smell it on you,” Angel said. 

“Chanel?” Lilah surmised as she sat down behind her desk. 

Angel stood up. “Fear.” 

“Well, you are very imposing in this light.” 

He walked around to stand by her chair. “You’re not afraid of me, Lilah. You’re afraid of what’s coming. Maybe we can help each other, huh. The enemy of my enemy --” 

“Can kiss my ass too,” she finished. “You want to play hero? Go find another sandbox.” 

Angel grabbed her chair and turned it to face him. Placing his hands on the armrests, he trapped her in the seat. “Normally, this would be the part where I’d make a grand threat, but thanks to Gavin --” 

They both looked at the man in question trussed up on the couch. 

“Like he knows anything,” she scoffed. 

Angel released her chair and stood by the desk. “That’s the point. This thing caught you by surprise too. You had no idea it was coming.” 

Lilah sighed. “So, what – I’m supposed to throw in with the White Hats ’cause the great unknown has me shaking in my pumps?” 

Angel walked around her desk. “It’s a win-win for you, Lilah. You help me, I stop it and Wolfram  & Hart makes you Employee of the Month for protecting everything they set in motion for the last thousand years. You help me and I don’t stop it. Well, the only way that’s going to happen is if this thing kills me.” He sat on the desk in front of her. “And if that’s the way it goes, you win again. So, you can keep playing it hard, or you can play it smart. It’s up to you.” 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Courtyard, Night_**

It had been hours since Angel left to run whatever errand he felt was important after signs in the **_Book of Revelations_** came to life. Spike stepped outside for a cigarette. It wasn’t that he couldn’t smoke inside the hotel, but the group was researching the new activities and he felt he needed a bit of time to himself. Okay, so he was really shadowing Cordelia who had come out here to clear her head. She sat on a bench in the courtyard diagonal from his position on the stairs. 

“It must be genetic,” she said seemingly to the open air. 

“What’s that, luv?” Spike asked as he walked down the stairs while lighting his cigarette. 

“Skulking around,” she replied. “Angel’s great at sneaking up on people.” 

“It’s a perk to being a vampire. What are you doing out here?” 

“Just been inside all day,” she sighed. “Thought I’d take a walk, clear the cobwebs, recharge the chargeable.” Spike tilted his head and looked at her. She rolled her eyes and refused to meet his. “Okay, stop with the look.” 

Spike sat down beside her and took a drag on the cigarette. He remained quiet. 

“I’ve been getting a stronger feeling,” she explained. 

“About the vision?” Spike clarified. 

“Yeah, flashes here and there, images tugging at me.” 

“Where?” he asked between drags. 

“I don’t know. Maybe where this thing’s going to jack-in-the-box.” 

“So you think you’re just going to face it by yourself?” Spike asked with an arched brow. 

“It’s all right,” Cordelia snapped, feeling as though he’d insulted her. She stood up and started to walk away. “I was a higher being.” 

“ _Was_ ,” Spike emphasized behind her, which caused her to stop in her tracks. “You’re not anymore.” 

Cordelia hung her head. “No, I’m not.” She turned around and looked at him with a faraway expression. “I remember wanting to come back home, to be able to touch, to feel . . . to be human again.” 

Spike clamped the cigarette between his lips, stood up and moved closer to her. “You are.” 

“But I can’t remember how. Am I on vacation? Did I go cosmic AWOL? Did I do something to piss off the Powers That Be and get kicked out? Why am I here? Maybe I was sent back to stop whatever’s about to happen. I have to find out if that’s why I’m here.” 

“Then I’m coming with you,” Spike stated. 

“You don’t have to,” Cordelia started to object. 

“Well, you’re bloody well not going out there alone,” Spike challenged. “Angel would kill me if anything happened to you while you decided to have a nature hike, if you haven’t noticed, luv the skies are imitating a Hitchcock movie and who knows what’s out there that could make a meal out of you.” 

Cordelia sighed tiredly. She knew when she was beat. Spike wouldn’t let her go alone. She glanced through the windows of the hotel doors and saw the team inside still researching. She turned and walked away. Spike fell into step with her. 

**************************

**_An alley in Los Angeles_**

“Do you know where we are?” Spike asked as he scanned the area for anything that might attack. The alleyway seemed familiar to him. 

“Not exactly, no,” Cordelia admitted. “But, for the first time since I’ve been back, I feel like I have a purpose – a reason for being here. Before, all I felt was empty – like I was waiting for my life to start.” 

When she abruptly stopped talking, Spike looked at her. “What is it, pet?” 

“This place. I’ve been here before,” she replied. 

“Should bloody well hope so,” Spike said. He knew why it was so memorable. “This is the alley behind what used to be Caritas.” 

“Lorne did say that Caritas was a mystical hotspot,” Cordelia commented. 

As if by some cosmic affirmation, the ground cracked in front of them and something burst up from the pavement. The blast blew Spike and Cordelia back a couple of feet. They looked up to see a hulking figure haloed in red light. Cordelia stared aghast at the beast. It looked like the one in her visions. 

The Beast was huge. It had two enormous horns on top of its head and cast a towering shadow on the damp street. 

Spike shifted to his demon and launched himself at the monstrosity, but The Beast merely swatted him across the alleyway into the side of a dumpster as if he were little more than a fly. 

“Spike!” Cordelia cried out fearfully. 

She was still crouched on the ground. She tried to crawl over to where Spike was shaking off the daze from the blow but stopped when the shadow moved over her form. She glanced apprehensively between Spike and the mountain of rock looming over her. 

The Beast grabbed her by the throat, lifted her several feet in the air to its eye level and stared at her, studying her. She trembled in its grasp but didn’t scream or try to break free. 

Spike regained his bearings and attacked the Beast again. The massive rock put Cordelia down. It twisted around, grabbed Spike and threw him across the alley again. 

“No!” Cordelia screamed. 

The Beast stalked towards her. She tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t get away fast enough. Her skin was torn where the Beast had grabbed her around the neck. 

Angel suddenly appeared at the mouth of the alley. His eyes widened when he saw the huge form stalk towards Cordelia for another attack. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, Spike staggered to his feet. 

Angel took off at a dead run down the alley. “Stay away from her!” 

The Beast looked up at the newcomer, then at Cordelia and laughed. With a single effort, he jumped to the top of a nearby five-storey tall building. Then, the Beast was gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

Battered and bloody, Spike made his way to Cordelia and helped Angel get her on her feet and out of the alley. 

“How did you know where to find us?” Spike asked, limping along the way. 

“You opened the link between us,” Angel replied. 

Spike looked at him with an unreadable expression. 

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to but in your panic, you did open it,” Angel continued. “I’m not happy that you decided to leave the safety of the hotel.” 

Spike nodded solemnly. 

“Let’s get back to the hotel before that thing comes back and any other acts from the **_Book of Revelations_** happen,” Angel sighed. 

The vampires helped Cordelia to the car parked a few feet from the alleyway. They all climbed in the front seat and Angel started the car. 

“What’s all this?” Spike asked as he moved a set of books and papers out of the way. 

“Something that may or may not explain our current predicament,” Angel replied as he stepped on the gas and took off in the direction of the hotel. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Gunn and Lorne were manning the phones. 

“If you see Fred, could you have her call me? Charles Gunn, two N’s,” Gunn said. “Yes, that’s my real name. Just – please, have her call me.” 

“Well, it might take a couple of days,” Lorne told his caller. “You’re fifth on the bleeding walls list. You know what? Spray it with a little 409. We’ll get back to you.” He hung up and looked at Gunn. “No word yet?” 

Gunn dialed Fred’s number again, but it just rang. “Nobody’s seen her.” 

“Well, maybe she ducked and covered when our feathered friends went kamikaze,” Lorne surmised. 

Gunn hung up the phone. “Are you good here? I’m going to drive around, see if I can – I’m just going to drive.” 

Lorne ignored the ringing phones and walked around the reception desk as Gunn put on his coat. “Let the machine work its mechanical magic. C’mon, I’ll hang my head out the window and see if I can pick up the Burkle vibe.” 

This new talent surprised Gunn. “You can do that?” 

“Um, no, but it sounds comforting and I could use the air,” Lorne commented. 

They started toward the door when Wesley came in. He stopped on the landing. 

“It is a bit ripe in here,” Wesley said neutrally. “I’d suggest opening a window, but --” 

Gunn’s blood ran cold at the sight of the former watcher. His tone was even colder when he said, “Fred’s not here.” 

“I didn’t ask,” Wesley said. 

“Didn’t have to,” Gunn said harshly. 

“Since you brought it up, where is she?” Wesley asked. 

“None of your business,” Gunn said resentfully. 

Lorne was definitely picking up on the hostile vibe between the two men. “Hey, uh, call me kooky, but maybe we can save the three rounds until after the Chuck Heston Plague-a-thon cools off.” 

“You’ve noticed the increase in paranormal activities?” Wesley asked only to have Gunn roll his eyes at the rhetorical question. 

“Yeah, you stepped in some on your way in,” Lorne replied. “Birds, rats, blood – the Ghostbuster lines have been ringing off the hook.” 

“I’ve been tracking similar reports.” Wesley sighed. “Maybe if we pool our data --” 

“Go pool yourself,” Gunn said. “I’m going to find my girlfriend.” 

Gunn went to the opposite door and started up the stairs when the door suddenly burst open with Spike carrying an injured Cordelia who looked drained and Angel with an armload of books and folders. The vampires heard Gunn say he was going to find Fred. After what they just saw erupt from the alley behind Caritas, no one was going anywhere until they could work out what they were dealing with. 

Angel let the door slam shut behind him. “No you’re not. If we don’t stop what’s coming, it won’t matter where Fred is, or any of us.” 

Spike took Cordelia over to one of the couches and set her down. Angel dropped the books off on the reception desk, and then went to the coffee table and spread contents of the folders out on the surface. The other three men went over to look at the mess. 

Lorne sat down, looking at the papers that Angel spread across the table. Hundreds of pages were covered in mystical symbols. Spike joined Angel as the dark vampire stood up and started pacing. Wesley sat next to Lorne while Gunn sat on the couch across from them. Spike picked up a couple of pages trying to make sense of the garbled symbols. 

“That’s everything Wolfram  & Hart could decipher from what they took out of Lorne,” Angel explained. 

“They just handed these over?” Spike asked distractedly. 

“ _Lilah_ – she can be very giving,” Angel replied which caused Wesley to look at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Do you trust her on this?” Gunn asked as he scanned a few pages. 

“No. But she’s got an interest in stopping the end of the world before it ruins Wolfram  & Hart’s end of the world, so . . .” 

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Spike asked. 

“You’re holding it,” Angel replied as he sat next to Gunn. “We figure out what all this means and then do something large and violent.” 

Wesley glanced over at the vampire. “I see you’ve given it considerable thought.” 

Lorne perused the papers he held. “So all this came out of my head? No wonder it made me greener.” 

“If Wolfram & Hart hadn’t extracted it, you’d be a paler shade of dead,” Angel commented. 

“Hey!” Spike said indignantly. 

Angel looked slightly irritated at him, “The permanent kind.” 

“Yeah, well, remind me to send them a fruit basket,” Lorne said, sipping his cocktail. The phone rang again. “Hmm, saved by the continuous bell.” He stood up and walked to the reception desk. 

“Have you been logging the calls?” Angel asked. 

Lorne raised his glass. “Every last squishy one.” 

“Grab a map and start marking the locations. See if they’re concentrated in any one area.” Angel said. Addressing the others, he said, “Whatever’s happening, whatever Cordy’s seen, the answers are on these pages.” 

“And figure out if that bloody beast in the alley is connected to it. The brute was made of solid rock,” Spike added still feeling the pain in his body from the beating he took. 

“It is. That’s the thing I saw in my vision,” Cordelia verified. 

“There was a beast made of rock in an alley?” Wesley inquired. The watcher side of him was interested in a new evil. “For those of us just tuning in, what are you three talking about?” 

“We’re never going to figure this out,” Gunn spoke up, turning the conversation away from Wesley’s curiosity. 

“I’m with Charlie,” Spike agreed. “This is a waste of time.” 

“It’s all we have,” Angel said. 

“Then we must be missing something,” Wesley said. “This is gibberish. Just bits and pieces of glyphs, archaic languages, symbols – all jumbled together.” He tossed the pages aside and looked at Spike. “What’s this Beast thing that you saw?” 

“Like a huge thing made of rock instead of flesh,” Cordelia replied tiredly. 

“Do you recognize any of the symbols, Wes?” Angel asked. 

The former watcher gestured toward the papers covering the coffee table. “Uh, heat, fallen, shrine, and flesh . . . none of it makes any sense.” 

“We got to keep at it until it does,” Angel said. 

Gunn stood up. “Maybe we should take a step back.” He walked around behind the couch. 

“We don’t have time. Cordelia said whatever’s happening is right now,” Angel said. 

“Then perhaps you should have addressed this earlier,” Wesley said curtly. “We could sift through this muddle from now until doomsday, whether that’s tomorrow or a thousand years from now --” 

Gunn stood next to Spike looking over the vampire’s shoulder. “Wait, Spike. Go back. That last sheet.” 

Angel stood up and walked over to look. “What is it?” 

Wesley looked at the mess on the table. “I don’t see anything.” 

“That’s ’cause you’re looking too close,” Gunn said offhandedly. 

Gunn lined up the two pages in Spike’s hands, revealing a triangular symbol that’s complete when they are positioned properly. Swiftly, the patterns of symbols and glyphs weren’t illogical anymore. 

Gunn snatched the pages out of Spike’s hands, grabbed the stack from Angel, pushed the coffee table out of the way, and started arranging the papers on the floor, matching up the denser areas until they formed a larger picture. 

Wesley joined the vampires as Gunn stood back and looked at the design on the floor. “Okay, so what the hell is it?” 

“The Eye of Fire,” Angel replied. 

“Ancient alchemical symbol for fire,” Wesley explained. 

“And destruction,” Spike added. 

“You had me at ‘fire’,” Gunn said wryly. 

“Um, boys?” Lorne spoke up from the reception desk where he held up the map. “I hate to be the little demon that cried apocalypse nowish, but uh . . .” He gestured to the map with a marker. The locations of the disturbances were plotted on the map looked similar to the blueprint on the floor. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Diner_**

Fred sat alone in a booth at the all-night diner, nursing a cup of coffee. She knew she was hiding from Gunn, or rather the situation with Gunn. But she needed some time to herself. She just needed to gather her thoughts and figure out the best way to tell him what happened between her and Angel. She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice the waitress come up to her with a carafe, and refill her cup. 

“I’ll give you one more, and then I’m cutting you off,” the waitress teased. 

Fred startled and looked up at her. “Oh, sorry. I can pay for the next one.” 

“It’s not the free refills that I’m worried about,” the waitress said. “It’s you – vibrating into another dimension after a tenth cup.” 

Fred smiled knowingly at that. The waitress didn’t know how close to the mark she was. “Nobody wants that.” 

“Why don’t you call him?” the waitress asked. When Fred looked surprised, the waitress leaned on the table. “You’ve been sitting here all day. He’s probably worried sick.” 

Fred looked properly chastised and admitted shyly, “I-I don’t know what I’d say.” 

“I think ‘hello’ would probably work. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you two come in here. That man would do anything for you,” the waitress smiled. 

Fred felt queasy. “I know.” 

“So cheer up. Whatever’s going – as long as you’ve got love – it can’t be that bad,” the waitress said. 

She tried to return the waitress’s smile when the building started to shake as an earthquake struck. Fred slunk out of the booth and crouched on the floor, pulling the waitress down with her. 

“Get away from the window!” Fred yelled at the patrons. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

While Angel, Wesley and Gunn discussed where and when the Ring of Fire would appear, Spike was stuck with First-Aid duty. He sat on the couch applying Mercurochrome and a bandage to Cordelia’s neck where the demon grabbed her. 

Cordelia watched him wince as he tended to her. “You’re hurt because of me. Because I thought maybe I still had some grand higher purpose, that my being here could actually . . . make a difference. Now, I know better.” 

“All you know is that that thing can hurt you,” Spike said as he taped the bandage in place. 

Angel stood at the reception desk drawing lines on the map, connecting the corners of the square formed by plotted incidents. 

“That’s it,” he announced, pointing out where the lines transverse. 

Lorne looked over his shoulder. “What?” 

“The focal point of the disturbances?” Wesley inquired. 

Everyone came to a halt when the building shook with an earthquake tremor. When the rumbling stopped, Angel went back to the diagram on the map. “Whatever’s coming, that’s where we’ll find it.” 

Gunn looked at the map. “I know that area – the old Kimball building’s down there. They did a retro on it and put a club or something on the roof. The, uh, Sky Temple or something.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Lorne chimed in. “A watering hole for the tragically hip. Actors, models, all the celebrities . . .” 

“There’s your shrine of flesh,” Wesley commented. 

“So, who’s thirsty?” Angel asked, walking to the weapons cabinet. 

“I’m in,” Gunn said and followed the vampire. 

Lorne still sat at the desk. “Hey, I know location’s everything, but maybe we should hold off on the down-payment ’til we know what we’re dealing with or how to stop it?” 

Angel started handing out weapons. “If it’s alive, we kill it. If it’s not, we bury it.” He tossed a crossbow to Wesley. “Spike, you in?” 

It took a moment for Spike to get over the shock of Angel wanting him on this mission and not being relegated to babysitter. Maybe his Sire was serious about wanting to make things permanent between them. He tossed the First-Aid kit aside and joined the others, taking the sword Angel handed to him. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Sky Temple Club on Kimball Building Roof, Night_**

The group walked up to the club entrance armed and ready to fight, but they frozen in their tracks by the sight of the Beast. It was the size of King Kong compared to Angel and his team. Adding insult to the unfairness, the Beast chuckled at the sight of them. It stood inside a barrier made of human bodies that were laid out in formation. At the center of the square, the Beast held a man in the air by his ankle. 

Lorne blanched at the sight of the Beast. “Ooh, uh, I’m going to need a bigger arrow.” 

The Beast sneered at Angel as he threw the body he held across the room before focusing his attention on the group in the doorway. 

Angel raised his sword and ran toward the Beast. Spike mimicked him, both vampires attacking the Beast at once. Gunn flanked them on the right, while Wesley and Lorne were on the left with crossbows aimed. 

Angel swung his sword high at the Beast while Spike swung his low, but it has no effect — when the swords made contact the Beast's skin, a pinging sound was heard, but the swords didn’t make a dent or penetrate the skin. 

Angel continued to try using his sword on the Beast, but still nothing. Eventually, the Beast took the sword away from Angel, tossed it, and threw Angel across the roof where he collided with a column, shattering it to pieces. 

The Beast reached down and grabbed Spike around the neck, pulling him up until he was eye-level with the Beast. The Beast gave an unimpressed growl. He looked down again and saw Gunn advancing on him. 

Gunn hurled the battle-axe at the Beast, but the Beast caught it easily, bending the blade in half against his body and threw it back at Gunn. 

Angel recovered from his fall, stood up, and wielded two smaller axes. He looked up to see Spike dangling in the air by his neck. Growling in anger, Angel swung the axes at the Beast’s legs, arm and head – but they made no impact. 

Wesley and Lorne fired arrows from their crossbows at the Beast, but the Beast deflected them with his forearm, changing their trajectory such that the arrows hit Angel instead. The dark vampire doubled over in pain as one arrow landed in his belly and the other in his upper right shoulder. 

Spike caught sight of his Sire’s attack and struggled to get free but to no avail. The Beast looked around at them all. Wesley and Lorne were in the process of reloading their crossbows when the Beast picked up Angel’s body and threw it at them, knocking them off balance. 

Gunn went for the Beast with a sword, hacking mightily at its head, again ineffectively. The Beast grabbed Gunn by the throat as well and threw him across the room. 

Seeming to remember that he still held Spike suspended in the air, the Beast tossed him like a baseball. Angel stared in shock as his mate went sailing over the side of the building. 

Wesley reached both hands inside his coat, pulling out two automatic handguns. He shot them, two at a time, at the Beast’s chest and head with no result. He threw them down and reached for the shotgun at his side. He fired at the Beast’s chest, causing it to flinch a bit, but the shots did nothing to damage it. He fired again at the Beast’s face, causing the Beast to fall to its knees. Wesley aimed the shotgun at its face at close range, but the Beast just looked up and smiled at him. The Beast grunted and pushed the shotgun away before hurling Wesley across the room. The Beast chuckled. 

While Wesley was occupied, Angel pulled the arrow out of his body. “Might want to hold the gloat, chuckles.” He pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. “We’re just getting started.” 

Angel lunged for the Beast, engaging him in hand-to-hand combat. They exchanged punches. The Beast punched Angel so hard; it sent him backwards through the air in a back flip. Angel landed on his feet on an awning, in vampire face now. He jumped down from the awning, landing in front of the Beast. They sparred again, but Angel managed to knock the Beast down to his knees. Angel grabbed a stake from his leg-holster and aimed it at the Beast's strange yellow eyes. Its eyes widened. Angel hesitated for a split second, unable to plunge the stake into its eyes because the Beast had a grip on Angel's arm now. The tables turned as the Beast stabbed Angel in the neck with his own weapon. Angel groaned in agony, blood dribbling down his mouth, as he involuntarily shifted to his human face. The Beast looked at Angel before he hurled Angel out into the city, well beyond the edge of the building. 

Gunn stood up and screamed, “No!” 

Lorne looked panicked. The Beast knelt on one knee and punched the floor at the center of his human square, sending a trail of fire out along the floor in the shape of the Eye of Fire symbol. Shock waves emanated from the area, knocking everyone back a few feet. Lorne was thrown back, but landed on a glass skylight and fell through it into the room below. Gunn and Wesley were knocked down, but still on the rooftop. The fire became a pillar, taller than the Beast. Wesley sat up in time to see the Beast leap straight up into the sky, riding the fire that he created. Wesley rushed over to Gunn, who lay unconscious on the floor. Lorne was conscious now and started to gradually make his way out of the building. Wesley carried Gunn away from the fire. 

In the street below, Spike slowly gained consciousness. He sat up and looked around. A few yards away, Angel lay unmoving on the ground. Spike slowly got his feet and staggered across the distance, collapsing to his knees at Angel’s side as the elder vampire rolled over, bloody and in pain from his encounter with the Beast. Spike was surprised to see a stake in Angel’s neck. When Angel weakly reached for it, Spike pulled the implement out, causing Angel to wince. The elder vampire convulsed in pain while looking at the sky. Spike followed his gaze and saw a shaft of fire shoot up into the red cloud in the sky right over downtown. Still glowing, the clouds began to rain tiny fireballs all over the city. 

“Let’s get you up and out of here,” Spike said as he staggered to his feet and struggled to help Angel up. 

Finally on his feet, they leaned on each other as they went in search of a safe place to hole up until the rain of fire stopped. 

**************************

From the office in which he fell, Lorne watched through the window as the fireballs rained down on the city. 

**************************

On the rooftop, Wesley held Gunn’s limp body in his arms and watched the sky. 

**************************

From inside the diner, Fred watched through the blinds as the fire rained down over the city. The waitress and other patrons were beside themselves with panic. Fred punched a number on her cell phone, but there was no signal. She looked at her cell phone, hung up and continued to stare out the window. 

**************************

Cordelia watched the rain of fire through her bedroom window. 

**************************

From her office, Lilah watched the rain of fire come down outside. She wrung her hands nervously, and then rubbed her upper arms as if she were shivering. 

**************************

Angel and Spike found sanctuary in an abandoned building. They watched the rain of fire through a dirty window. 

“Great way to make your point,” Spike commented. 

Angel looked at him. The glow from the shower of fire illuminated Spike’s face, turning his blue eyes into a steel-gray color and creating shadows against the high cheekbones. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You started the apocalypse with a beast made out of rock that made fire rain from the sky,” Spike replied. 

“I didn’t cause the apocalypse!” Angel growled in irritation. 

“Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere now. You’re going to need help with the backlash from this stunt, mate. So, I guess you’re stuck with me until we avert the end of the world.” 

“Don’t do me any favors, Spike! I wouldn’t want to put you out or anything,” Angel ground out. 

“Who said I was doing you a favor. I’m not taking orders from you anymore. This is what I want: to be here with you, so you’re just going to have to deal with that,” Spike said, kissing Angel. 

The elder vampire pulled back enough to say, “I can deal with that.” He pulled Spike closer, kissing him possessively.


	5. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 55: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 5)_

**_Los Angeles, an abandoned building_**

The sky glowed with streaks of flaming meteors as they descended on the city only to extinguish themselves by the time they hit something solid – a building, a street lamp, the pavement. Once they established that neither had a concussion from the latest round with The Beast, Angel and Spike left the building through the sewer access and made their way to the hotel. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_**

Fred sat at the reception desk, nervously tapping her foot against the bar stool as she listened to the radio reports of the bizarre phenomenon occurring all over the city. 

_“A series of earthquakes and what authorities are now calling ‘meteor showers’ have ravaged the Southland tonight, igniting fires and explosions throughout the L.A. basin. As fire and rescue teams assess the ongoing threat, government officials are asking people to stay in their homes and off the street,” the announcer said._

The telephone rang; a shrill sound in the cavernous hotel. Fred jumped at the noise and then rushed to pick it up. “This is Fred. No, that’s right. Yes, ma’am, it’s Angel Invest—I know. It is scary but . . . if she’s only an hour late . . . I’m just saying maybe it’s a bit early to panic. A little fire falling from the sky doesn’t necessarily mean the end –” 

She looked up when the door opened. Wesley, Lorne and Gunn walked into the hotel bruised, battered and bleeding. 

“Oh my God,” Fred said and hung up on the caller. She hurried around the reception desk. She ran to Gunn, throwing herself into his arms. “I thought you were dead. I got back here and it was empty. I panicked and with the radio and the fires around the city . . .” 

Wesley walked past the couple eying Fred’s embrace of Gunn with a sour expression. 

Gunn either didn’t notice or ignored him altogether as he hugged Fred. “I know, baby, I know. Me, too. It was like the end of the world out there and all I wanted was you.” 

Wesley nearly gagged at Gunn’s heartfelt confession that sounded like it was straight out of a movie script. 

“Well, you’re safe now,” Fred assured him and looked at the other two, adding, “All of you.” 

“Yes. We’re all safe,” Wesley commented without emotion at all. 

Fred wiped away the tears that fell when she saw Gunn. Looking around Gunn at the door expectantly, she asked, “What about Angel and Spike? Where are they?” 

“We got separated,” Gunn replied. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon. What about you? Are you okay? Where’s Cordy?” 

A small hysterical laugh escaped Fred. “If she wasn’t with you, then she must be up in her room.” 

“I’ll go check,” Wesley hastily volunteered. He’d do anything to get away from the two sickening sweet lovebirds right now. Watching them was giving him a toothache. 

Fred spared him a fleeting look before focusing on Gunn. “I’m fine. I just needed some air. I didn’t know I’d be gone so long.” Glancing at the diagram on the floor, she commented, “Looks like there’s some other things I didn’t know either.” 

Gunn nudged her out of the way to set his weapon down on the counter of the reception desk. “Plenty of time for updates later. Right now we need to regroup and think about getting back out there and mixing it up with that demon-y thing.” 

“That’s not what Angel would do,” Wesley said as he came back down the stairs followed by Cordelia. 

“Thanks for your opinion and I don’t remember asking you,” Gunn snapped. 

“What demon-y thing?” Fred asked confused. 

“Oh, I believe he’s referring to the big, bad and possibly invincible demon-y thing that nearly killed us all before he ring-mastered tonight’s Cirque de Flambé,” Lorne replied. 

“Was that the pain and suffering and despair thingy you saw when you read me?” Cordelia asked. 

“Afraid so, pixie-cat. And if there was ever truth in advertising . . .” Lorne said. 

“Charles, if he’s really that big and bad, maybe we should wait for Angel and Spike. I mean, if they couldn’t stop him . . .” Fred said pleadingly. 

“So we just wait because we don’t know what Angel would or wouldn’t do?” Gunn asked. 

Angel and Spike stumbled through the front door having come up through a manhole in the street. They were leaning heavily on each other, trying to hold themselves up as they moved. 

“Would I do what?” Angel asked having caught the tail-end of Gunn’s query. 

“Angel, you’re hurt!” Fred said, shocked by the vampires’ equally battered appearance. Even with their healing abilities, they still looked no better than Gunn and Wesley. 

“I’ll be . . .” Angel started to say. 

“Let’s talk about this in the morning, or after we’ve had a decent day’s sleep,” Spike interrupted. He turned Angel in the direction of the stairs, groaning painfully as they climbed the steps. “Are you sure you don’t want to get that elevator fixed, mate? It’s not like you’ll throw another grenade at it or anything.” 

The group watched the vampires ascended the staircase. “Man, it looks like they were hit by a tank,” Lorne observed. 

Gunn agreed, “Spike’s usually hyper after a fight.” 

“Can’t really blame either of them,” Wesley commented, looking pointedly at Fred. “No one likes to lose, whatever the circumstance.” He headed for the door. “Well, there’s nothing to be done tonight. I have more research material at home. I’ll have to read through it all to see if we missed anything.” 

Gunn’s lips thinned into a grim line annoyed that Wesley didn’t seem to know the meaning of ‘regroup’. Not that he cared much lately about the former watcher. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment, the next day_**

Wesley sat on the couch researching the material from Wolfram  & Hart. A knock at the door broke through his concentration. Carefully putting the books aside, he got up to answer it only to find Lilah on the other side of the threshold. The second she saw him, she gave a relieved sigh and smiled. 

“Okay, I was just checking,” she said. 

“I’m alive,” Wesley commented disinterestedly. 

Taking in his appearance with healing wounds and disheveled clothing, she replied, “Not by much from the looks of it.” She walked in and hugged him. “I left you a couple of hundred messages last night. Don’t feel obligated to return any of them.” 

Wesley noted the accusation in her tone, but couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he opted for a perfunctory, “And you’re all right?” 

She smiled genuinely at his concern, or lack thereof. “I’m fine. I slept at Wolfram & Hart. FYI: safest place to be in case of an apocalypse. You, on the other hand . . .” she tilted her head coyly. “Bet I can make you feel better.” 

Lilah leaned in to kiss him but Wesley turned his head aside and stepped out of her reach. She looked at him quizzically. “You know, it’s weird. There was a rain of fire, whole city burning . . . why do I feel a chill?” 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Wesley said softly. 

Lilah smirked. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it a million times, cowboy. We both know how it ends: you, me . . . broken furniture.” 

“It’s over, Lilah,” he stated with more confidence. 

She looked at him, studying him for a moment and saw the determination in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “You’re serious?” 

“After what I saw last night, I believe a day of reckoning has arrived,” he said. 

“And you just _reckon_ you’ll toss in with the good guys?” Lilah sneered. 

“I’m choosing a side,” he said simply. 

“And the girl of your dreams just happens to be on it. What are the odds?” 

“This isn’t about Fred or anyone else, for that matter. It’s about right and wrong,” Wesley clarified. 

“And you have such a clear grip on those concepts,” Lilah said in an accusatory tone. 

“I’ve made mistakes.” 

Her brows furrowed. “You’re making a big one right now.” With that she turned and walked out. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

After a day and a half of sleep, the vampires had stumbled down the stairs to get blood and Angel barricaded himself in his office. Spike stayed at the reception desk for a while looking over the information Fred had collected until his eyes crossed. An hour ago he gave up and followed Angel’s cue, barricading himself in Angel’s office. 

Fred sat behind the desk with the laptop while Gunn leaned on the other side of the desk. 

“I don’t get it,” Fred said in exasperation. “I’ve run stats through every possible database, cross-checked against prophecies, and still come up with squat. How can a creature with that much firepower _not_ leave behind some kind of parchment trail? 

“There’s a trail,” Gunn said. “Problem is the trail guide was drawn by a crackhead.” He handed her one of the runic pages. Cordelia came down the stairs from her bedroom. Gunn looked up and smiled. “Hey Cordelia.” 

Cordelia smiled a greeting as she joined them. “The sky should not be made of fire.” 

Inside the office, Angel sat behind the desk while Spike sat on the other side trying to make sense out of the pages in front of him. 

“Do you suppose it’s a coincidence that this hell-beast jumped out of the ground behind Caritas?” Spike mused distractedly. 

“Really?” Angel asked sounding mildly surprised and then shrugged. “Sure, it could be a coincidence that means nothing. Strange things happen. It’s about how to get rid of it now.” 

“Strange things happen to _normal_ people, Angel. Not us,” Spike pointed out. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_**

Gavin Park walked into Lilah’s office and set a cup of coffee on her desk while she was on the phone. 

“Listen, Frank, I don’t care if you have to lojack the damn thing,” she was saying, “Find that beast or I swear to God I will . . .” 

“Boil you alive,” Gavin offered as he motioned for sugar. 

Lilah scowled at him and shook her head. “Boil you alive.” She hung up the phone and looked at Gavin. “How hard can it be to find a giant horned thing?” She took a sip of the coffee and made a sour face. “Or a decent cup of coffee?” She dropped the full cup in the trash. “Why are you still here?” 

“Intel confirms that it was the creature that triggered the pyrotechnics last night,” Gavin reported. “They’re just not sure why he did it.” 

“I’ll tell you why: because it can. It’s the eight hundred pound gorilla. It can do whatever the hell it wants. I get that. But other than char-broiling everything in sigh, I don’t think it has an agenda and that makes our job tricky.” 

“What job?” Gavin asked nervously. 

“The Senior Partners want us to try and cut a deal with it,” Lilah scoffed. 

“You can’t be serious,” Gavin said in disbelief. 

“Well, it wants the same things we do. An apocalypse, an end to the world, yadda, yadda, yadda. The Partners feel it might speed things along and save a few bucks,” Lilah explained. 

“What if it’s not interested?” 

“Then, I’ll change its mind. I’m not losing this one.” Lilah looked up at the ceiling as the lights suddenly went out and the building trembled on its foundation. She grabbed the phone and dialed security, but the line was dead. “We have to find security personnel and figure out what’s happening.” 

Lilah reached into her desk drawer and removed a semi-automatic pistol. She slapped in a magazine and chambered a round before going out the door with Gavin following. The scene they came upon shocked Lilah and that wasn’t easy considering where she worked. There were bloody, mangled corpses all over. This _thing_ turned Wolfram  & Hart into a slaughterhouse. 

“What exactly is this thing?” Lilah wondered aloud. “Gavin, you go that way and see you can find anyone alive. I’ll go this way.” Not waiting for him to acknowledge her, she went down a corridor. He shrugged and went in the opposite direction. 

A half hour later, the Beast strides down the corridor, looking for new victims. It paused at the door to a janitor’s closet when it heard muffled sounds coming from inside. It pushed the door open to find Gavin Park frantically searching the shelves of the supply closet. He looked over his shoulder, terrified. 

“Uh . . . hi,” Gavin said in fearful greeting. 

The Beast reached out and seized him by the throat, lifted him up off the floor and snapped his neck. It dropped Gavin’s corpse in the hall and moved on. 

On the other side of the corridor, Lilah found her way into the conference room. Lilah backed into an office, away from the Beast, firing her weapon as she went. The rounds struck the creature point-blank but the Beast didn’t even flinch. She emptied the magazine into the Beast and it never broke stride. Instead, it lifted her up and slammed her down on the conference table. It wrapped its massive hand around her neck. She dared to look up at the thing and for the first time in a long time, she felt real fear. 

“I can help you,” Lilah said shakily. “Anything you need.” 

The Beast ignored her and sunk one of its claws deep into her abdomen. She gasped and choked in pain as the Beast’s talon ripped its way into her gut. Suddenly, it stopped and pulled its claw out of her. It hurled her off the table and onto the floor. It turned and faced a terrified lawyer who stood up from his hiding place nearby. 

Moaning in pain and holding her bleeding stomach, Lilah used the Beast’s distraction to stagger out of the room and down a corridor. She looked back at the Beast who followed her with purposeful strides. She tried to move faster but her strength was fading fast. As she passed one of the shattered offices, someone grabbed her and yanked her inside. She gasped as the person set her down and went back to the doorway. 

Lilah breathed a sigh of relief when she turned and saw it was Wesley. “I don’t understand.” The adrenalin pumping through her veins made her legs wobbly and she began to collapse but Wesley caught her. “Why are you here?” 

“I have a man on the inside,” Wesley replied nonchalantly. He glanced around as a heavy rhythmic thumping sound resonated throughout the building. “What’s that?” 

Lilah flashed him an ironic smile. “That’s the fat lady singing.” The rush of the chase left her exhausted and she started to swoon again. 

“Lilah!” Wesley said as he caught her before she fell to the floor. He scooped her up in his arms and took off in the direction opposite the echoing noise. 

Lilah blinked up at him as he carried her down the hall. “The building automatically shuts down under full-scale attack.” 

“When you ‘shut down’ . . .?” Wesley started to ask when suddenly a massive steel shutter slammed down over the window in the office behind them. 

“All windows, doors, air vents . . . nobody gets in --” Lilah whispered. She was cut off by the office door being yanked off its hinges and the Beast stood silhouetted in the entrance, snarling. Wesley picked up Lilah up and ran out the side door and into the corridor. 

Wesley ran down the hall with Lilah in his arms. “Stay with me! Come on, Lilah, there must be a way out for someone like you. Think! A back door, something.” 

The Beast strode out into the hall behind them as an unconscious lawyer starts to regain his senses and get to his feet. 

“Around the corner, supply closet,” Lilah replied. 

Behind them, the Beast seized the hapless man and ripped him to pieces. The sickening sound echoed through the corridor as Wesley ducked around the corner and set Lilah down. 

“What are you stopping for?” Lilah asked bewildered. 

Wesley reached into his supply bag and held up a grenade. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Lilah slurred tiredly. 

Wesley pulled the pin and tossed the grenade at the feet of the approaching Beast. The creature looked down at it curiously as it detonated with a tremendous blast. Wesley helped Lilah up and staggered down the hall. 

“Will it kill him?” Lilah asked. 

“No, but it might distract him for a moment,” Wesley replied as they came to supply closet. 

Lilah recognized Gavin Park’s dead body near the door. “Gavin. Poor bastard.” 

“Lilah,” Wesley said to get her to focus. 

“It’s in here,” Lilah said. 

Wesley dragged her inside the small room and shut the door as the Beast strode out of the wreckage further down the corridor. Inside the room, Lilah frantically pulls paper, pens and rolls of toilet tissue off the shelves. “Come on! Where is it?” 

“You sure this is the right closet?” Wesley asked anxiously. 

“Yeah, third floor and lobby.” 

He joined in, yanking everything off the shelves. Finally, Lilah found a steel handle set into the wall. She twisted the handle and a metal panel slid back, revealing an escape chute. 

The Beast ripped the door from its frame only to find the supply closet empty. It looked around for a second then moved on with a menacing snarl. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**

Angel, Spike, Lorne and Cordelia lounged around the lobby, pouring over books, researching. Fred sat behind the reception desk working on her computer while Gunn sat nearby reading as he nervously tapped a pencil on his book. 

“Can you not do that?” Fred said irritated. 

“Oh! Sorry, it helps me think,” Gunn said apologetically. 

“Didn’t mean to snap,” Fred said. 

Cordelia slammed her book closed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m ready to crackle pop myself. The last twenty-four hours haven’t exactly been normal. We’re all tired.” 

Angel walked past her, reading as he headed for the reception desk. Along the way, he kicked Lorne’s leg, startling the empath demon awake. 

Disoriented, he sat up on the settee. “Just . . . just meditating on the problem,” Lorne said in weak defense. “Yeah, asking the inner Lorne for a little backup.” 

“The devil-y guy emerged from the portal behind Caritas – or at least what’s left of it?” Gunn inquired. 

“Yeah, that whole block is a big fat inter-dimensional happenin’ hot spot,” Lorne replied. 

“Except this thing didn’t emerge from a portal so much as a pothole,” Cordelia clarified. 

The doors to the front entrance suddenly burst open, catching everyone’s attention as Wesley entered. 

“Oh, good,” Gunn said sardonically. “More bad news.” 

“Can you just try to get along? He was your friend,” Fred pleaded. 

“Heavy on the ‘was’,” Gunn reminded her as Wesley walked down the stairs into the lobby. 

“You know where it is. The Beast,” Angel commented. 

“Inside Wolfram  & Hart,” Wesley replied. 

“That answers a lot of questions,” Gunn said as if Wesley’s revelation confirmed something for him. “They’re probably having a big sit-down, breaking bread.” 

“It’s killing everything that moves in there,” Wesley corrected. 

“I’ve heard worse news.” Gunn shrugged and went back to his book. 

“Why go after your own bloody team?” Spike spoke up. 

“Maybe all it wants is to eliminate the competition,” Angel suggested. 

“Doesn’t give us much to look forward to, does it?” Fred asked nervously.


	6. Chapter 56-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 56: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 6)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Angel’s Suite_   
**

Spike knew he was in bed alone before he opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. The curtains were closed against the sun. His sleep-hazed brain noted the indent of Angel’s body in the cold sheets beside him. He turned his head to glance at the clock. The blurry digital numbers told him it was 2:00 PM. Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed and got dressed.

Spike opened the French doors that separated the en suite and bedroom, squinting at the glaring light. Angel sat in his favorite wingback chair, sketching on a pad. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he headed for the kitchenette and a glass of blood heated in the microwave. Angel didn’t acknowledge him as he passed by. It wasn’t until Spike was standing over him, two full glasses in hand, looking at the picture he was drawing that Angel glanced up.

“Hey,” Angel said softly.

“I made you a glass, too,” Spike commented.

“Just put it on the table,” Angel said disinterestedly.

Spike set the glass down and straightened up, taking a sip from his own glass. “Good likeness, luv.”

“Just doing a bit of research,” Angel filled the silence between them. “There’s nothing on this Beast. We fought it and it tossed you over the side of a building and nearly decapitated me with my own stake. It’s killed hundreds of people that I couldn’t save.”

“We’ll find something. Remember the Judge? No weapon forged could kill him, up until the Slayer fired a rocket launcher at him,” Spike smirked, remembering how Angelus told him what happened in the Sunnydale mall that night.

Angel grunted in reply, lost in thought.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Oil Fields, the following night_   
**

Gwen Raiden made her way through the dark among the churning oil derricks. She stopped and looked around expectantly, but no one was there.

“Ms. Raiden,” a deep voice greeted.

She turned to find Mr. Ashet, a man clothed in African tribal robes, wearing dark sunglasses, had materialized out of the darkness.

“Mr. Ashet,” she acknowledged him. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be,” Mr. Ashet commented.

“I apologize for your long journey when I can’t offer better news,” Gwen sounded oddly contrite considering her line of work.

“You haven’t changed your mind?” Mr. Ashet asked.

“Sir, I understand the amulets you want acquired are very valuable,” Gwen said.

“Yes,” he agreed, “they are extremely rare and powerful protective amulets.”

“Yeah, and considering the holy-roller Revelations party that seems to be going on lately, I can see why you might want them,” she conceded. “But as juicy as the commission is . . . I’ve got this problem wherein . . .” He took off his sunglasses to reveal a set of inhuman eyes. The way they bored into her unnerved her so much she faltered before she rushed to say, “I’m very respectfully going on vacation to Tahiti, sir.”

“You have no idea who I am, do you, Ms. Raiden?” he asked, “Or of the dire importance of recent events?”

“I know enough to go to Tahiti,” Gwen stated.

“Well said. Perhaps then I won’t kill you for your –”

He suddenly screamed and Gwen stumbled backward as a massive fist punched through Mr. Ashet’s chest from behind. Gwen looked up to see the Beast towering over her. It smiled at her before hitting her with a blow that hurled her fifty feet in the air. She landed on the ground in a crumpled heap. She raised her head from the dew-moistened sand and watched as the Beast ripped its hand out of her client’s chest. Mr. Ashet collapsed to the ground. The Beast knelt over him, reached into the blindingly bright hole and removed a small metallic object from inside the body.

Holding the object in one hand, the Beast looked at Gwen who removed her gloves, preparing to fight. Electricity arced between her fingers but when she rose to her feet, the Beast had disappeared. Only the lifeless body of Ashet remained.

**************************

**  
_Los Angel, Hyperion Hotel, the next morning_   
**

Spike was in the kitchen actually cooking. The aroma of bacon and scrambled eggs drew Cordelia’s interest. Everyone was still in research mode in the lobby when she came down from her room. She sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“You’re cooking?” Cordelia asked in shock.

“I can cook! I’ve seen enough food shows on TV to pick up a few culinary skills that would be helpful in case I’m trapped in a bloody hotel with a group of humans whose stomachs growl,” Spike said defensively.

Cordelia nodded and let the subject drop. “The sirens are getting closer and more frequent. A couple of times last night I even dreamt I heard --”

“Screaming?” Spike finished and shook his head. “It wasn’t a dream, luv. Things are falling apart out there.”

Spike glanced up from his task in time to see Cordelia’s eyes suddenly widen in horror. He dropped the spatula and turned the burners off before rushing to her side. “What is it, luv? A vision? What did you see?”

“I . . . we have to go see Angel.” Cordelia’s voice was filled with trepidation. She turned and practically ran out of the kitchen. Spike wasn’t too far behind.

Gunn paced the lobby, frustrated, while Fred sat at the reception desk researching. They looked up just as Cordelia practically flew past them. A few seconds later, Gunn had a dish towel thrown at him.

“Finish cooking breakfast, Charlie boy!” Spike said over his shoulder as he hurried to catch up with Cordelia, taking the steps two and three at a time.

“Breakfast?” Gunn echoed as he watched Spike follow Cordelia.

Fred and Gunn exchanged looks and went to the kitchen.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_   
**

Angel glanced up from his research when Cordelia barged in followed by Spike.

“What is it?” Angel asked concerned.

“I just had a vision while I was in the kitchen with Spike --” Cordelia started to say.

Angel looked at Spike who shrugged and then back at Cordelia. “What was it about?”

“It was . . . different from any other. I felt like I was inside someone else listening to the demon talk but I couldn’t tell if it was in the past or in the future or even where we were exactly.”

“Who was inside you . . .?” Angel asked. Spike snickered at his Sire’s slip of the tongue. Angel gave Spike an annoyed look. “I mean, who were you inside?”

Cordelia shook her head. “I couldn’t tell. But I feel like there was more I wasn’t getting, like I was just scratching at the surface of something.” She sighed dejectedly. “Maybe it’ll come to me.”

“So, what did the demon say?” Angel asked.

“Don’t know. All I got was the visual.”

“That’s not much to go on, luv,” Spike said.

Cordelia looked between the two vampires. “But it’s something! And a vision means the phone lines between us and the Powers That Be are still open. Maybe they’ll send us a clue.”

Angel scoffed. “As if there’s somebody up there watching.”

“I was! But I’m back now and things are going to Hell and . . . and you’re the leader so lead!” Cordelia demanded.

Angel gave Spike a look silently asking for a translation as if Cordelia was speaking a language he never heard before.

“Uh, I think she means to stop locking yourself in here, brooding and go downstairs to research with the rest of your pet humans,” Spike clarified.

“Fine!” Angel said petulantly.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

The entire group was in the lobby – including Angel, who paced the stair landing that led to one of the outside doors. Spike, Cordelia, Fred, Gunn, Wesley and Lorne were standing around or seated on the round settee facing him.

“The Powers are sending us a wake-up call, people,” Angel said. “Sure, we’ve been – I don’t want to say ‘demolished’ – beaten. And sure it’s slightly demoralizing. But, from here on out, we’re on the offensive. We’re going to find out this thing’s weaknesses. We’re going to go in prepared and we’re going to fight smart. It’s time to take down the Beast.”

“Anyone else hear the crescendo of music with that little speech?” Spike asked no one in particular.

“Um . . . we’re all behind you, Angel, one hundred percent,” Fred spoke up. “But how can we be prepared when there’s nothing on this thing?”

“And weaknesses?” Lorne asked. “It’s not a sure bet El Destructo has any.”

“Everyone has an Achilles heel,” Angel replied.

“Yeah, well until we find his, we’re going to be cooling ours, ’cause we got nothing without a new lead,” Gunn stated.

At the sound of a door opening, Spike and Angel looked past the group. Angel’s surprised expression – if you call it that – got the human’s attention and they followed his gaze.

Gwen stood framed in the doorway, wearing a short black half-top and red leather pants. Cordelia eyed her skeptically due to the fact the newcomer reminded her so much of Faith. Not to mention what she saw when she was on a higher plane of existence.

“Gwen?” Angel inquired.

The dark haired woman stepped down into the room. “Hi, there. Long time no hand-to-hand.” She glanced at Gunn and her lips quirked up in a little smile. “I remember you.”

Fred stood protectively in front of Gunn and glared at Gwen. Raising an eyebrow and scoffed. “The guy you killed? Yeah, that’s him.”

Gwen thought Fred’s tough-guy act was cute. “I kicked you in the face, too, didn’t I, cherry? Sorry about that. I really do try to avoid contact.” She looked over at Angel as if they shared a secret and added, “Mostly.”

Spike could scent her arousal when she looked at Angel. Unlike the women, it didn’t surprise Spike that this girl was attracted to his mate. He’d had his fair share of females throw themselves at him over the years. He raised his hand. “Excuse me. I’ve been on a soul-searching sabbatical. Someone want to fill me in on who the bint is?”

Not taking his eyes off of Gwen, Angel started to make the introductions. “Spike, Cordelia, this is –”

“I know who she is,” Cordelia cut him off. Addressing Gwen, she remarked, “I caught your little show on the omniscient higher-plane channel, thanks.”

“So, you’re the girl who makes his heart go pitter-pat,” Gwen looked her competition up and down. “Figuratively, at least.”

Spike cleared his throat exaggeratedly. “That would be me, luv.”

Gwen looked at Spike in surprise. She never really went for the Billy Idol look. She turned back to Angel and gave him a tight smile. “You must be so happy.”

“I am,” Angel replied. “Not having the best week to be honest.”

“Tell me about it,” Gwen said off-handedly. With a blink, she became serious. “I mean, really. Tell me. Freak to freak: is the world about to end or what?”

“Something happen to you?” Angel asked concerned.

“I met with a client last night, in the oil fields, which is odd because I’ve bagged for this guy six years, big money, and he never wanted to meet before,” Gwen explained.

‘Fascinating as these details must seem to you,” Cordelia cut in with a derisive tone, “we’re dealing with much more important stuff right now. Apocalypse. End of the world.”

Gwen continued as if Cordelia hadn’t said anything. “Also, while we were talking, he got his chest punched out by a big demon with a head made of rock.”

That got the team’s interest peaked. Gwen suddenly felt like she was a deer in headlights now that she had their rapt attention.

Feeling uneasy, Gwen pressed on, “Demon, ok? The whole nine: cloven feet and horns and teeth and . . .” She glanced up as Lorne came in. “He wasn’t wearing lamé though.”

Lorne gave her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, the evil ones can’t pull it off. It gets camp.”

“This client of yours, was anything removed from the body?” Wesley asked.

“I didn’t see.” Gwen replied and turned to Angel, “But you are hands down the weirdest person I know, so I figured I’d ask you what’s going on.”

Fred picked up the ancient book on the Ra-tet and approached Gwen. “Excuse me, not that I don’t still bear a grudge against you, because I do, but your client didn’t happen to be a skinless sabertooth tiger or composed entirely of light, maybe?”

Gwen’s eyebrows rose. “The light . . . it came out of his chest. How did you know?”

With that bit of knowledge, Gunn sneered at Wesley. “You wanted a pattern. That makes three.”

“He’s killing the Ra-tet,” Fred declared.

“What’s a Ra-tet?” Gwen asked confused.

“A mystical order,” Wesley replied. “Each totem represents a stage in Ra’s journey across the sky.” He pointed out the characters in the book Fred was holding. “Here’s your client. Two others – these – are dead.” Wesley stood so close to Fred it made Gunn ground his teeth in jealousy.

“That means there are two totems left: Manjet and Semkhet,” Cordelia said.

Fred took a step back from Wesley. She could feel his body heat and it was doing things to her she didn’t want to think about right now while they were in the middle of an Apocalypse.

She walked back to the reception desk, taking the book with her. “The last sighting of Manjet was rumored two years ago in Belize. Semkhet is said to live in a cave in Death Valley.”

“That’s easy,” Angel said as moved to grab his coat and a weapon. “All we have to do is find Semkhet and protect him.”

Lorne stood next to Fred and turned the page. There was a woodcut of a little girl standing with her arms around a prehistoric great cat. “Hmm, well won’t that be hoot. Looks like Semkhet is puddy-tat to the world’s scariest six-year-old.”

“It could be dangerous,” Cordelia cautioned.

“I’ll take Gwen and Spike,” Angel told them.

“Gee, I feel all warm inside,” Gwen internally observed with a sarcastic edge.

“Shouldn’t we all go? It might--” Cordelia began to object.

Angel stuffed a few weapons in a bag before leading Gwen to the door. “We can handle it. Superpowers. I’ll catch her up on the drive.”

“But it’s a four hour trip, both ways,” Cordelia pointed out.

“Spike, you coming?” Angel asked, ignoring Cordelia's mathematical remark.

When Spike didn’t answer him, Angel looked over at the blonde vampire and realized he seemed to be in a daze. He moved with surprising swiftness for a man of his size, crossing to his mate and crouching in front of him, snapping his fingers in Spike's face.

“Spike, you with us?”

Spike blinked reflexively at the snapping fingers then nodded. “I’m fine. How are you?”

Angel tilted his head skeptically at that response. “Spike?”

Between the looming Apocalypse and the Beast, Spike’s problems were inevitably pushed to the wayside and Angel knew his boy wasn’t as fine as he professed. The blonde’s past still haunted him, but Spike seemed functional as long as he stayed busy with the mission.

“I’m fine, Angel. Really. I’m just . . . feeling a bit knackered, I suppose. I haven’t gotten much sleep with **_Book of Revelations_** playing itself out lately. I think I’ll give it a pass this time, if you don’t mind, luv.”

“No, it’s fine. I won’t be gone long.” Angel gave Spike’s coltish leg a supportive squeeze before rising from his crouch, still reluctant to go, which apparently Spike read in his expression or body language, maybe both.

“Yeah, mate. Go on. I’m all right,” Spike reiterated, waving him off.

After Angel and Gwen left, the team resumed their research on the Beast. Spike excused himself from their stacks of books and scrolls, making his way outside in the hope of clearing his head of the memories plaguing him since he returned. He laid his hands on the wrought-iron railing and leaned outward, his pale, almost painfully sculpted face turned into the night wind, cerulean eyes focused on the inky, star-embroidered night sky. In his mind he could hear Drusilla’s voice, clear as an arctic bell.

_“Kick a dolly when he’s down. That was always your style.” Drusilla laughed as if there was a greater joke behind her observation. Her voice became a sing-song whisper. “Little girls tear so easily, like pink paper.”_

_Spike turned to see the bone white apparition of his beloved Drusilla standing beside him. The last time he had seen her was when he and Angel put her in a cab and sent her as far away from Lindsey MacDonald as possible._

_“Think of it as a game, my sweet Spike,” Drusilla encouraged seductively. “A fine, funny game. Without the boring rules, or any of the bothersome winning part.”_

_“You’re not Drusilla,” Spike insisted emphatically._

_Drusilla giggled mockingly. “No, I’m really not.”_

_“She was crazier than you,” Spike opined disdainfully._

_Drusilla jumped back as if Spike had singed her. She covered her ears with her small, white hands and pouted childishly. “Ooh, Daddy. No kicking. It’s almost Christmas day today and you’ve gone spoiling it. I’ve been so very good all year.” She playfully growled at him. “Bad Daddy.”_

_“Dru, luv,” Spike whispered, coercing her closer. When she came nearer he added, “Get bent.”_

_Drusilla's expression was petulant. “Stupid, stubborn Daddy.”_

“Spike?”

Without warning, Spike spun around with feline grace and swiftness, attacking the speaker and pinning the person to the cold hard concrete of the veranda. He aggressively nuzzled one side of the inviting neck then the other, inhaling the fragrance of the tender flesh, licking and savoring. In the split second before his blunt, human teeth found purchase in the yielding throat, he paused.

“I remember,” he declared simply before shifting into his demonic, vampire face and darting his head in for a killing bite.

Before his fangs could do more than dimple the soft flesh, Gunn and Wesley were there, dragging him off and away from his prospective victim. Spike struggled in the clutches of his captors and managed to break Wesley’s hold – only to be hit in the ribcage with a tranquilizer dart.

"Bollocks," he declared with annoyance before collapsing to the ground.

“Are you all right, Fred?” Wesley worriedly inquired.

“Y-yes. I don’t think he even knew it was me,” Fred told him with a shaky voice.

Wesley and Gunn grabbed one of Spike's slender yet muscular arms each and hauled the unconscious vampire to his feet while Fred picked herself up from the ground.

“What do we do with him now?” Gunn asked, eyeing Spike as if he might suddenly wake and attack again.

“Basement,” Wesley replied firmly.

“The basement, really? Spike is harmless,” Fred protested with a hint of uncertainty.

“He just attacked you, Fred,” Gunn pointed out. “We have to contain him until we find out what triggered his aggression.”

“Fine, but for the record, I'm uncomfortable with locking our friends in basements,” Fred said, still holding open the door for them to drag Spike through.

Lorne and Cordelia looked up in surprise when Wesley and Gunn carried, but mostly dragged, Spike into the hotel and across the lobby.

“What the hell happened to him?” Lorne inquired with alarm.

“Did Wolfram & Hart try to take him?” Cordelia asked.

“He attacked Fred without provocation, as far as we can tell,” Wesley replied as he and Gunn made a beeline for the basement.

"There was a complete lack of provocation on my part," Fred defended herself.

“Oh my God, why would he do that?” Cordelia followed them as they left the lobby.

“He was lost in thought, I think, daydreaming, or do vampires nightdream? I don’t think he recognized me at all,” Fred explained.

The two men negotiated the basement steps with Spike’s unconscious body while Cordelia and Fred located a set of shackles and chains, fastening the chains to an O-ring deeply embedded in one of the concrete walls. Gunn and Wesley first shackled Spike's wrists then attached the shackles to the chain.

Gunn took a step back and examined the prone body of the vampire who had become a moderately trusted friend and skilled, reliable fighting partner. He was as clueless as everyone else about why Spike snapped. “I guess we’ll find out the ‘why’ when he wakes up and Angel comes back.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Nearly Twenty-Four Hours Later_   
**

Angel and Gwen walked through the double front doors with a short, stocky man clad in a fedora, khakis and a Hawaiian shirt so loud it could be heard all the way back in Waikiki.

“Any movement from the Beast while we were gone?” Angel asked as he descended the three steps into the lobby.

“Not a peep,” Gunn replied with a casual tone. He didn’t look up from the text he was reading, reducing the chance of Angel seeing the truth, if they made eye contact. “Just killing time trying to find ways to kill it – which, by the way, if there are any, they aren't in these books.”

Fred dubiously eyed the stranger in the room. “That doesn’t look like Semkhet . . .”

“Semkhet’s not available, sweetheart,” the man replied. “He came down with a slight case of being ripped open to death in a cave. Don’t suppose I could interest you in a short, extremely virile orb-keeper?”

Angel cleared his throat. “Guys, I’d like you to meet Manny, the last totem of the Ra-tet.”

Wesley looked incredulous. “This . . . is a being of supreme power?”

Manny smirked at the former Watcher. “You ought to see me in my Armani.”

Lorne was at least as cynical about the stocky man standing in the lobby. “What happened to the second-to-last one?”

“Somebody already ripped out the toy surprise,” Gwen replied impassively.

“Good news is, we’ve discovered the Beast’s plan,” Angel offered.

That caught Gunn’s attention and he looked up. “Which is?”

“To blot out the sun for all eternity,” Manny replied. He let a minute pass so that everyone could absorb the impact of that announcement then asked, “You guys got a john?”

Angel waved in the direction of the public restrooms. “Right back there.”

“Thanks, pal.” Manny headed down the hall, stopping to pick up several newspapers from the counter first.

When he closed the door, Cordelia asked petulantly, “Why did the chronically ensemble-challenged man with the overestimated libido say that? He’s joking, right?”

“No, apparently there’s a ritual using members of the Ra-tet to change day into night . . . forever,” Angel explained, glancing around the large lobby for Spike. His mate’s scent, like defiance and arousal, still lingered in the immediate area, but it was several hours old. He remembered holding the slighter man close, burying his face against his neck between hairline and leather trench coat collar and deeply breathing in Spike's unique scent.

_“Here, what are you playing at, mate?” Spike queried with a chuckle._

_“I like the way you smell,” Angel frankly admitted._

_“I must smell a right rose after that fight,” Spike denied. “Did you see the way--?”_

_He was interrupted by a growl of arousal from Angel, who suddenly had him pinned to the ground. “We could bottle that smell and make a fortune,” he declared huskily, pulling impatiently at the clothes separating him from his mate’s skin._

_“And call it what? Daft Bastard?” Spike laughed at the suggestion and the circumstances._

_Angel smiled down at him, loving the defiant light in the cerulean eyes. “Rebellion,” he growled before lowering his head for a devouring kiss._

“As far as evil plans go, it doesn’t suck,” Wesley observed, interrupting Angel's brief recollection.

“Why isn't Spike here?” Angel asked, trying to make it sound unlike an accusation. Suddenly everyone became quiet, looking around the room guiltily and feigning interest in lint on their clothing or the upholstery of the lobby sitting area. They wouldn’t even attempt to meet Angel’s eyes, and his gaze found Cordelia's, his eyes narrowing.

“He’s in the basement,” Cordelia blurted awkwardly, receiving glares from everyone. “What? He looked at me with that _look_ he does!”

Angel became instantly suspicious. “What’s he doing down there?”

Clearing his throat, Wesley took a step forward. “Angel, something happened to him while you were gone. He stepped outside for a moment and when Fred went to check on him, he attacked her. It was completely unprovoked. We haven't been able to determine what triggered his aggression.”

“Well, there has to be reason. Aside from the fact that he has a soul now, he would never have attacked Fred, or any of you for that matter. Well, Fred, anyway,” he amended.

“We know that, Angel,” Lorne said.

“Obviously something triggered him to lash out like that, but we have no clue what it was,” Gunn reiterated.

“I’ll go down and see what happened,” Angel said, heading for the basement door, then pausing. “You guys stay up here, out of the way.”

Gwen took a seat on one of the couches lining the wall, stretching out on it with feline grace. She had no clue what was going on, but she had to stay until she figured out why the huge demon made out of rock killed one of her best clients.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

Spike lay on the basement floor in shackles, both hands chained to the wall. His eyes were closed and he didn't breathe, looking like an amazingly lifelike marble statue. Angel walked quietly down the steps and crossed to the prone body. He sat on the floor and waited for Spike to wake up.

Spike seemed to sense his presence. There was an unnecessary intake of breath, habit of a lifetime for all but elder vampires, then the blonde rolled over on his back. His eyes remained closed, unwilling to look at Angel.

“Did I hurt anybody?” Spike asked in a low voice. It was the first time in the last few years that Angel heard the brittle tone of fear in the younger vampire’s voice. Spike was scared he’d done something he couldn't remember that might be utterly unforgivable.

“You attacked Fred, a little bit, but Wesley and Gunn got to you before you could do any damage,” Angel replied softly, his voice devoid of anger or resentment. “I promise you she’s okay. Fred's tougher than she looks, she survived captivity and life as a fugitive in Pylea. Now, she’s survived an encounter with William the Bloody. She's building a more impressive reputation than the _rogue demon hunter_ upstairs.” There was a teasing tone to Angel’s voice.

“I don’t remember,” Spike admitted. His manner as detached as if he spoke about the actions of a stranger whom they'd only heard about.

“It’s okay,” Angel assured him. “No one was hurt. They know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt them.”

“Angel, I don’t know why I attacked her,” Spike said, ignoring Angel’s attempt to assuage his guilt. “You have to kill me.”

“Why would I kill you?” Angel asked.

“You have to, I've gone rogue. You always swore you’d kill me if I hurt your pet humans. You know what I’m capable of. I've gone barmy.”

“I raised you. I know what you’ve done and what you're capable of,” Angel said.

Spike finally sat up and leaned against the wall beside Angel. “I know how much blood you can drink from a girl before she dies.”

Angel got a faraway look on his face at the mere thought. “The heart slows, stutters, you drink just enough to let them get the flavor of death in their mouths, so they’ll cry when you --” he broke off with an embarrassed cough and focused on getting his racing pulse under control. Vampires didn't require hearts to pump their blood when it came to arousal. “Yeah, I know. I'm the one who taught you how to kill, _boyo_.”

“I wanted to kill Fred. Angel, I swear if Wesley and Gunn hadn’t taken me down, I would have ripped out her throat and drained her dry like so many other girls just like her.”

“I thought you said you didn’t remember any of it?” Angel asked conversationally.

Spike finally looked over at Angel, the anguish of hurting Fred written painfully on his angular features. At moments like these, Angel could see the poet's pain. “You’ve got to kill me before I get out and try it again. Next time it could be Cordy.”

“I'm not going to let you off so easily.” Angel leaned closer to him. “What’s been going on with you? No lies and half-truths, I want the truth, Spike.”

“I’m seeing --” Spike began, but had to swallow a searing lump in his throat. “Oh, God. I can’t cry the soul out of me, Angel. It won’t come. I killed,” he nodded as he spoke, in agreement with his own words. “I can feel them. I can feel every one of them.” He let his head fall back against the cool cement wall, tortured eyes closing. “I don’t want to remember. Don’t make me remember.”

“The soul is a tricky thing,” Angel said. He had a hundred-plus years to deal with his own damned, blood-drenched soul. He was cursed to remember every one of his victims. Spike got his soul willingly, but the horrific memories were no less grotesque than his own.

“Will you . . .? Can you . . .?” Even with a soul, Spike couldn’t bring himself to ask Angel for help, but, the elder vampire read him like a book.

“I’ll help you.”

When Angel moved to release him from the shackles, Spike stopped him. “No, Angel! I’m dangerous. I don’t trust myself and neither should you.”

Angel stared at Spike, searching the tormented blue eyes. His boy wanted to punish himself for what he nearly did to Fred.

Gunn appeared on the bottom landing of the basement stairs. “Angel, we need you upstairs.” Fred offered to come and get him, but Wesley and Gunn categorically denied her request, not wanting her anywhere near Spike until he had whatever was wrong with him under control.

Angel spared a glance in Gunn’s direction and nodded. “Be there in a minute.” When the vampire hunter retreated upstairs, Angel returned his attention to the younger vampire. There were more pressing matters, so he’d let Spike have this victory for the moment. “I’ll check on you in a bit and bring you some blood.”

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Angel pressed his lips to Spike’s temple, then touched their foreheads together before he got to his feet and went back upstairs. Spike settled down and anxiously waited for the nightmarish memories to torment him now that he was alone.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

Angel walked in while the group was discussing what to do with Manny.

“But where are we going to hide him?” Fred asked. “We need a small, controlled space.”

“Kitchen’s got a meat locker,” Gunn suggested.

“Brilliant! Let’s store the one thing that will stave off perpetual darkness in the home of the only people we’re sure the demon knows,” Wesley said sarcastically.

“You got a better idea, Einstein?” Gunn seethed.

“Give me time,” Wesley retorted.

Angel didn’t know what was going on between Wesley and Gunn that caused the backbiting and bitter comments. With Spike’s issues and the Apocalypse to deal with, Angel was sure he didn’t care. Frankly, he was getting tired of their behavior.

Angel wiped a hand down his face. “Everyone’s on guard duty.”

“I know a place,” Gwen spoke up amidst the arguing.

“Great,” Cordelia said with faux enthusiasm. “As long as it’s not some nondescript tenement downtown, with discarded boxes in the stairwells and peeling plaster and . . .”


	7. Chapter 56-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

**_Los Angeles, Gwen’s Apartment Building_ **

Gwen led them into a nondescript tenement downtown, with discarded boxes lining the stairwell.

“. . . The faint odor of dead people,” Cordelia finished.

“You know, you didn’t have to come, Cordelia,” Angel said sardonically.

“But, what if I have a vision?” Cordelia asked innocently. “Better that I be with you, right? Besides, Spike is chained up in the basement. So, it’s not like you have any other backup.”

“Rather here than back at the hotel plowing through annoying books with symbolic manifestos and the ‘Brilliant!’ Wesley keeps shouting every five minutes,” Gunn said contemptuously as he followed Angel and Cordelia up the stairs. The former Watcher was getting on his last nerve with the way he was trying to get close to Fred.

“Never trust the books or the bookies, kid,” Manny spoke up, climbing the stairs after Gunn. He was starting to feel out of breath the higher they went. “Real juju takes place on the Q-T. That’s why you can’t find this Beast. He’s too powerful. I mean, taking out the Ra-tet . . .”

“Yeah, speaking of,” Gunn cut in. “Ain’t you ’Tet folks supposed to be all mighty and colossal?”

“The mid-day totem is man, the neutral totem is the potential of every human soul,” Manny explained.

Cordelia was even less impressed, the more she heard. “So, you’re just a guy, then?”

“There’s more to me than meets the eye, sweetheart,” Manny said. “For example, I’m immortal . . . unless I’m ritually murdered, of course.”

Gwen stopped before an iron door in a particularly seedy hallway and placed her bare hand on the lock. With a flash of electricity, the lock released and the door swung open.

“Oh, well it’s too bad we came here, then,” Cordelia said as Gwen opened the door. “’Cause if you’re going to be ritually murdered it’s probably going to be in a hellhole like . . . . this.”

Gwen stepped inside and turned on the lights to reveal a lavishly decorated, spacious apartment. She smiled to herself when Cordelia was rendered speechless. “Come on in.”

The group followed her inside and looked around in wonder.

“My butler’s already in Tahiti so we’re on our own here,” Gwen explained as she ushered them into the huge foyer. “I’ll hit the kitchen for supplies later if I can . . . well . . . find the kitchen.” She shut the door behind Manny and disappeared down a long hallway.

Angel leaned closer to Cordelia and whispered, “The Axis of Pythia – the thing I used to find you on the higher plane – it’s worth thirty-three million dollars. I gave it back to Gwen when I was done.”

Gwen returned and opened a set of wooden double doors. “Let’s get you set up in the study,” she said addressing Manny.

They all followed her into a spacious library, the walls lined with bookshelves. She crossed over to one of them and pulled a book out. It triggered a hidden panel which slid back revealing a steel vault door.

“Can never pass up a good cliché,” she said by way of explanation.

She used her power to activate the locking mechanism and the door slid back into the wall revealing a small panic room.

“Twelve inches of solid steel, its own ventilation system . . .” Gwen boasted.

“Homey,” Cordelia commented dryly.

“You should be safe here,” Gwen assured Manny.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I ain’t expecting any miracles.”

Gwen turned to Angel. “So, guard duty, what do you think? You and me, first shift?”

Angel’s lips quirked up. He didn’t know about Manny, but he could smell her arousal. Spike would have found it entertaining if he wasn’t completely insane and locked in the basement back home right now.

Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to split up? One superpower per shift. That way if horn-boy shows up, we mere mortals might stand a chance.”

Gwen sighed unhappily at the thought of not getting Angel to herself. The memory of their last encounter fueled her fantasies for the past several months.

“Makes sense to me,” Gunn acknowledged.

“Okay, then,” Gwen reluctantly agreed. “I’ll take Denzel.”

“Actually, my name is Gunn,” he smirked. “Not that I mind the freakishly accurate comparison, but you will keep your hands to yourself.”

“Four hours on, four hours off. Bunk down off duty. Get as much sleep as we can,” Angel ordered. “We’re already tired and got a long few days ahead of us.”

Angel headed for the door. Cordelia shot Gwen a dirty look and followed him.

Manny poked his head out of the panic room with a smile. “Hey, Gwen, don’t suppose this joint’s got skin-emax?”

Gwen smiled and shut the door, sealing him in. "Don't suppose."

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_   
**

Wesley and Fred were buried in stacks of ancient books. Lorne came up from the basement looking a bit worn and helpless. Angel had relayed what Spike told him of his memories and asked Lorne to take the younger vampire some blood before he left for Gwen’s apartment.

Fred looked up as Lorne shut the basement door. The empathic demon rubbed a hand over his tired face.

“Hey, how is he?” Fred asked. She’d been worried about Spike since he freaked out on the terrace.

“Oh, in the ‘goes’ part of ‘comes and goes’,” Lorne replied. “He’s bad, munchkin. He was humming an old folk tune while I was down there. Let’s just say what I read wasn’t good, and yet, still better than what I read from Cordy.”

“Well, there seems to be a definite lack of yelling. That has to be good,” Wesley said optimistically.

Lorne chuckled softly. “He has my dying voice. So tell him, with th' occurrents, more and less, which have solicited - the rest is silence.”

"Hamlet," Wesley remarked.

"Depressing," Fred added.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

Spike sat up against the cement wall, staring off into space, humming along to **_Early One Morning_**. A few blood packs that Lorne left with him were still sitting in a pile beside him.

_Spike looked at his hand, and a female hand clad in black lace slipped into it. He looked up into Drusilla’s eyes. Looking around, he saw the Victorian parlor of the house in which he lived with his mother. Drusilla tugged on his hand and he stood, following her._

_She twirled around in a little dance and he followed her lead._

_“Ooh, such a pretty house you have, sweet William. It smells of daffodils and viscera,” Drusilla sing-songed._

_“Don’t get too attached, now,” William twirled her around the room. “We won’t be here for long, luv.”_

_Drusilla released his hands and sat on the couch. “Well, then . . .” she patted the seat beside her. “Should we give it a proper goodbye?” She growled seductively._

_William walked toward her. “You’re a saucy one, aren’t you?” He sat beside her, kissing her passionately. Grabbing her up in his arms and flinging her across his lap, he bent in to kiss her again. “Dru . . .” he moaned softly. “We’ll bring this world to its knees.”_

_“It’s ripe and ready, my darling, waiting for us to devour its fruit,” Drusilla said._

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Gwen’s Apartment_   
**

Although Cordelia and Angel relieved Gwen and Gunn of standing guard on Manny over an hour ago, they hadn't said much to each other the whole time. Each time Cordelia tried to initiate conversation, Angel seemed lost in thought. She sipped her coffee and sneaked glances over the rim of her cup at Angel who still hadn’t touched his tall glass of blood. The plasma was probably coagulated by now, she thought. Ick.

“So . . .” Cordelia began, “All of this alone time together. Maybe we should talk.”

“About what?” Angel asked distractedly.

“Good question. What could we possibly have to talk about what's new and different in our lives? Oh, how about the new and psychotically improved Spike, for one,” Cordelia replied. “I'd say he's always been on the cusp of unpredictable, but now that he has a soul . . .”

“Spike’s doing fine, Cordy. Having a soul means regretting every bad thing you’ve ever done, and in Spike’s sordid history, there’s a lot to feel guilty about. To be honest, he’s doing far better than I did when I was cursed with my soul, but Spike wasn’t cursed with his soul. He fought for it and maybe that makes a difference. Don’t worry, he’ll get through this.”

“We've got him chained up in the basement of the hotel like he's our personal bondage boy. It's an interesting look for him, but I'm not seeing the plus side of him having a soul,” Cordelia countered.

“Once he learns to manage the memories and control his vampire instincts he’ll start to trust himself around people again,” Angel assured her, finally taking a sip of his drink.

**************************

**  
_Three Hours Later_   
**

“Please . . .” Angel mumbled in his sleep, his unconscious slowly giving way to his conscious mind with the vague idea that he was in the midst of an earthquake. He started awake to discover that he, not California, was shaking, and that it was Gwen shaking him. “I’m awake!” he declared.

“What the hell were you thinking, falling asleep on watch?” Gwen angrily demanded.

“I wasn’t --” Angel began to deny her accusation, but stopped when he considered she'd just shaken him awake and he was currently rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“What’s happening?” Cordelia asked with a groggy slur to her words. She opened her eyes to find Gunn kneeling beside her, grim concern etched on his face.

Angel didn't miss the expression on Gunn’s face, instantly aware that something was wrong. “Manny!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and running to the disguised vault door.

He gave the book lever a sharp tug and the door slid open to reveal Manny’s butchered body. Butchery was too neat a word, Angel decided. This reminded him of the massacres he and Darla used to visit upon convents in ages past; wide swaths of blood and gore decorated the walls as if whatever slaughtered Manny was in a creative frenzy at the time and attempted to repaint the walls.

“It got him,” Angel announced flatly.

Cordelia peered over Angel’s shoulder, taking in the macabre scene in a glance then turning away. “ _Got_ leaves _everything_ to the imagination, Angel. It lacks the kind of warning I should have had to prepare myself. Weren't descriptive words invented when you had a pulse?”

Gwen ignored Cordelia's berating and paced while the team inspected the carnage. “Was this part of his powers; creating extra blood and guts?” She spared a glance at what used to be her immaculate panic room. “That’s a _lot_ of blood and guts in there. No way all of that Stephen King splatter extravaganza come out of one normal guy.”

“It was the Beast,” Angel observed grimly. “It was looking for something Manny had.”

“How do you know?” Gunn asked.

Angel picked up Manny’s hat. The center of it was punched out and he held it up for the others to see. “It emptied out his head to find it.”

“Ew,” Cordelia declared, disgust on her attractive face. “With a heaping side of, gross.”

Gwen stopped pacing. “Wait. Manny boasted that he was an orb-keeper, right? Maybe he kept an orb.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes in Gwen's direction. “In his _head_?” she asked sarcastically.

“Where do _you_ keep _yours_?” Gwen pointedly retorted.

“Hold on a second. She’s right,” Angel broke up the impending catfight before claws came out.

“Of course _she_ is,” Cordelia commented peevishly.

“Semkhet, the demon in the cave,” Angel addressed Gwen. “You said _someone already pulled out the toy surprise_.”

“Did I?” Gwen asked with a dissembling tone.

“The Beast is pulling something out of these totems,” Angel declared with a frown.

“And you _knew_ ,” Gunn accused Gwen.

“There something you’re not telling me, Gwen?” Angel demanded.

The three of them stared expectantly at Gwen, awaiting an answer.

“All right, fine. My client – the Beast grabbed something out of him, too. A little, metal boxy thing,” Gwen confessed with an exasperated sigh.

“And you completely neglected to mention this fact,” Cordelia snapped irritably.

“I didn’t _know_! I thought the box might be worth something. Look, the Apocalypse was coming, there was a giant killer demon and I panicked a little,” Gwen defended her subterfuge. “And by the way, I’m still a thief and as a rule, we don’t share information.”

“Okay,” Gunn drawled, turning to address Angel, “What about the cave demon? You think the big ugly went treasure hunting inside of him?”

“I'd say it's a possibility,” Angel acknowledged, “What with the inside-out skull and all.”

“Glad we agree on that,” Cordelia commented as she began to pace. “What’s _impossible_ is thinking that somehow, someway, the Beast found where we were hiding, _spiked_ the drinks we made _ourselves_ , snuck through this _unreasonably_ large apartment on the tippy-toes of his cloven feet right up to the vault and killed poor Manny _unseen_ and _unheard_.”

“Maybe whoever did it didn’t have cloven feet,” Gunn said. When they all gave him a blank look, he sighed. “I can’t be the only one thinking it.”

“Spike’s been chained up in the basement this whole time,” Angel said defensively.

“I didn’t mean Spike,” Gunn replied cryptically.

“This is impossible,” Gwen said indignantly.

“Yeah,” Cordelia snapped. “I thought we pretty much covered the whole _impossible_ issue. Subtext and footnotes included.”

Gwen chose to ignore Cordelia’s barbed comment. “Unseen and unheard,” after thinking about it for a moment, it dawned on her, “I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, good. More things we can agree on,” Cordelia quipped with a smile.

“Security cameras,” Gwen ignored the brunette’s remark and walked out of the room with Angel, Cordelia, and Gunn following. She stopped at a console. “I've got them in every room. We just need to rewind the tapes.”

Angel turned to Gunn, “In the meantime, call the hotel. Tell them about Manny.” Gunn started to walk away when Angel added, “Tell them about the toy surprises, too. Let’s see if we can find out what they’re for and how we can stop the Beast from using them.”

Gunn nodded and took out his phone, searching his address book for the number to the Hyperion.

“I’ve got the origin of the blackout,” Gwen announced, drawing Angel and Cordelia’s attention. “It kicked off in a small subset of the municipal A-14 grid, that’s the one under this block. About ten minutes before _your_ watch.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Cordelia asked, her eyes narrowing.

“It means that _somebody_ knew when you were going to take over that watch and _somebody_ knew whose drinks to spike. If you ask me, this is an inside job,” Gwen directed this remark to Angel.

“Funny how _you_ were inside at the time,” Cordelia pointedly accused her.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Enough, Cordy! Let’s just focus on the guy trying to blot out the sun. We’ll point fingers later.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

“I’m just saying, it never would have happened on _my_ watch,” Gwen said defensively as she, Cordelia, Angel and Gunn walked inside the hotel.

“Gosh, no!” Cordelia sneered. “Because you’re a retro British rock group."

"What?" Gwen was annoyed, but clearly mystified.

"Supertramp,” Cordelia clarified with a smirk.

Angel ignored the ensuing catfight and went over to the counter where Lorne was deep in research. “What’s the latest?”

“I checked out the ritual like you asked. Looks like there’s some assembly required.” He opened a book and pointed to a diagram of a winged figure. “Turns out these three pieces were inside the totems. The Beast kills the totems, yanks out the pieces and builds himself a big old light switch,” his expression belying the apparent callousness of his words.

“What about the other two? What did he take out of them?” Angel asked as he examined the drawing.

“Apparently he sucked the energy out of the little girl, and he ripped the heart out of the shaman, but the text isn't clear about how he’s going to use them.” Lorne tilted his head. "For all we know that was just a light snack."

Angel groaned at the whole situation and walked towards the basement. “I’m going downstairs to check on Spike.”

At the mention of the blonde vampire, Lorne abandoned the book and followed Angel. “The few times I’ve been down there. He’s been . . . . well, okay, I guess. He’s been humming an old folk tune. Angel, that boy of yours, he’s in a bad place.”

That stopped Angel and he rounded on Lorne. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What I read while he was humming. It wasn’t good. All I saw was a massacre, and a lot of blood – rivers of it.”

“How many times do I have to tell you people? He has a _soul_. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt you. He’s learning to block out the memories from his past, which is probably what you saw when you read him. _I_ made him. _I_ shaped him. _I_ taught him everything he knows. He’s my responsibility, and my mate. **_If_** he gets out of hand, I’ll be the one to stake him.”

“Angelfood cake, I didn’t say anything about staking him.”

Angel ignored his protest and went downstairs, into the basement, slamming the door shut in Lorne’s worried face.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

Angel descended the steps and cautiously approached Spike. The blonde vampire was sitting up against the wall, humming softly to himself. There were a couple of empty blood bags beside him.

“Spike?” Angel inquired as he crouched beside the chained vampire. He caressed a thumb over Spike’s high sculpted cheekbone and the blue eyes refocused on him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I suppose,” Spike said noncommittally.

“Enough to get out of here?” Angel asked hopefully. When Spike didn’t answer, Angel continued, “It’s starting to get bad out there. I need someone I trust to back me up. I need with you with me.”

After a moment, Spike nodded and held out his arms. Angel unlocked the shackles, releasing him.

“Isn’t this a bad idea?” Spike asked bewildered.

“The Beast has all of the pieces from the totems of the Ra-tet to perform a ritual.”

“What ritual?”

“To blot out the sun for eternity,” Angel replied grimly. “Are you with me?”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

It took a while, but Angel finally persuaded Spike to join the rest of the team in their researching. The group looked up inquisitively when Angel went over to the reception desk with Spike in tow. Wesley and Gunn were especially watchful of the blonde vampire since his violent encounter with Fred.

“These wings,” Gwen said, pointing at a drawing in the book, “they’re metal, right? Get me close enough and I can melt them. That’ll slow him down.”

“ _If_ we can find him in time,” Cordelia emphasized. “Need I remind everyone that he’s already got the pieces? Plus we don’t even know where he’s going to perform this ritual.”

“Sun or no sun, I’m not worried about slowing him down,” Gunn interjected. “I’m worried about taking him out on a permanent basis.”

Wesley had been staring at Spike ever since he came up from the basement. Gunn’s comment snapped him out of his headspace. “Uh, Fred and I may have a solution for that.”

“We’ve done a lot of research while you were gone and we think we found a way to get rid of the Beast,” Fred expounded. She looked around at everyone before adding, “A portal.”

Gunn’s lips thinned at that idea and he shook his head negatively. Lately, Wesley and Fred had been getting cozier than he liked. Now they were tag-teaming the idea of a portal. He imagined Fred would emphatically shoot down the idea of portals considering what they'd done to her professor a few months ago. How could Fred have become inured to it so quickly? _He_ remembered it like it was yesterday. It was the catalyst that changed things between them.

“Figures,” Gunn retorted acridly.

“We’ve tried conventional methods; firearms, the usual weaponry. None of which seems to work,” Wesley countered grimly.

Angel wasn’t dumb. He knew something more had happened that night than Gunn and Fred let on, but right now, they had to deal with the Beast and decide how best to defeat it. “If we stand against it long enough to find a way to corner it, maneuver it into position . . .”

“Then maybe we can send this thing back to the hell-sweet-hell it came from,” Lorne finished.

Gunn stalked over to the cabinet and put away his weapons, obviously upset. Fred watched him for a moment then went over to try appeasing him. “I know what you must be thinking.”

Gunn rounded on her and chided, “That we should have learned our lesson?”

“Wesley and I determined this is our only workable option,” Fred maintained.

“I can see that. It doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Gunn conceded bitterly before joining the others at the reception desk.

“Okay, so we’ve got everything we need to stop this ritual?” Angel asked as he started packing up the books. “Let’s clear out of here and try to find the Beast.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened and she gasped as a vision hit her full force. There was a medieval battlefield strewn with corpses, broken and bloody. The Beast stood above it all, watching the dead and dying. When she refocused on the world around her, she realized Spike was the one who caught her as she'd collapsed. “Oh, my God.”

Angel looked up at her. “Another vision?”

Cordelia shook her head as Spike helped her to regain her balance. “Same one, only there was more of it. A massacre. So many people on the ground . . . dead, dying . . . the screaming was so loud.”

“Could you hear the demon?” Angel asked.

“No, but whoever it was talking to, they felt familiar. Like someone I knew,” Cordelia replied.

Lorne and Angel shared a look. Her description was near verbatim as to what Lorne said he saw when he read Spike. The both looked at Spike.

Feeling their eyes on him, Spike blinked back innocently. “Wot? You think I know where the Beast is? I’ve been chained up in the bloody basement all this time. I barely knew where you lot were.”

“Might I suggest that we begin searching in the original place this whole thing started?” Wesley proposed.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Alley Behind Caritas_   
**

Angel’s car rolled into the alley just as the Beast raised the combined totems – two metallic gold wings topped with a glass orb – and blew a murky cloud of black energy from its mouth into the orb. The orb turned black and the Beast set it down in the center of a runic diagram on the ground.

“Ket, sahy, Ma’at. Ket sahy, Mesektet,” the Beast chanted as it held a human heart directly over the orb and squeezed out the blood onto the sphere. “Ket, sahy, Ma’at. Ket, sahy, Mesektet.” The orb glowed a fiery red, then faded to black again.

Angel, Spike, and Cordelia got out of the front seat while Gunn, Gwen, Wesley and Fred emerged from the back seat of the car. The two vampires were covered by blankets and they ran for the nearest shade.

“He’s already started,” Fred pointed out.

“Wes, you got everything you need?” Angel called from the alcove between two buildings.

“Ready,” Wesley called back.

Gunn went to the trunk and took out axes, swords and other assorted weaponry. He tossed swords to Angel and Spike.

“Gwen, go for the orb, the wings, whatever you can reach. We can’t let him finish the spell. Gunn, you, Spike and I will have to keep him busy long enough for Fred and Wesley to open the portal.”

By then, the sky had lost the sun and became a stormy gray color. Angel and Spike threw off the blanket just as Gunn went in for the attack. He was smashed to the ground in a heap. Angel and Spike fell into the age-old rhythm of switch-hitting their opponent. Fred and Wesley stood off to the side chanting while Gwen tried to get at the idol. She spotted an opening and dashed across the alley toward it.

The Beast tossed Angel and Spike into opposite brick walls of the alley before returning its attention to Gunn, but spotted Gwen in its peripheral vision. It picked up a wooden crate and hurled it at her. The crate struck her full force and shattered. She dropped to the ground, dazed. The idol broke into its three component pieces and the orb rolled across the ground.

“The orb!” Angel yelled. “Don’t let it . . .”

Spike started crawling after the orb and was about to grab it when it came to rest between the massive cloven feet. The Beast looked down at Spike with a predatory smile.

Just then, the rest of the vision hit Cordelia and an overwhelming sense of dread came over her as she finally realized to whom it was speaking.

The Beast knelt in the center of the runic diagram. “Ahmum, Semkhet. Vesh ra’an, Manjet.”

A shimmering energy began forming around the Beast.

“Angel . . .” Wesley warned.

“Yeah, I got it,” Angel acknowledged. “Everybody get ready.”

“Angel!” Cordelia called as she looked up as cloudy black tendrils crawled across the sun, blocking the light and turning day into dusk then full night.

Angel ignored Cordelia, focused on watching the energy portal form around the Beast. He had a moment of déjà vu as the memory of Acathla’s portal flashed in his mind:

_Acathla let out a low rumble. Buffy opened her eyes and stared in shock as Acathla's face contorted. His brows furrowed down, his eyes glowed red, his mouth opened grotesquely and the swirling vortex to Hell opened, small at first, but growing steadily in size and emanating a deep, red glow. Buffy let go of Angel and looked up into his face._

_“What’s happening?” Angel asked confused by her expression._

_“Shh,” Buffy whispered, placing her fingertip against his lips. “Don’t worry about it.”_

_She brushed her fingers across his cheek. She laid her hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss, and it became more passionate. Behind them the vortex grew to five feet in diameter and continued to expand. Buffy broke away from the kiss and looked deeply into Angel’s eyes._

_“I love you,” she whispered._

_“I love you,” he whispered back._

_She touched his lips with her fingers again. “Close your eyes.”_

_After she gave him a reassuring nod, he closed his eyes. She struggled to keep from crying, and gently kissed him again – a goodbye kiss. She stepped back, drew back her sword and thrust it into his chest. His eyes snapped open in surprise and pain. A bright light emanated from the sword. She backed away from him, horrified by what she’d done. He reached out to her and looked down at the sword protruding from his body. He looked at her, completely bewildered by this turn of events. She could only stare at the sword and take another step back._

_“Buffy . . .”_

_Behind him the power of the sword began to swirl into the vortex. Buffy backed away farther, unable to drag her eyes from the horrific scene. The vortex steadily grew to twelve feet in diameter. When the vortex finally met his body, it suddenly closed into Acathla’s mouth without so much as a spark, taking Angel with it._

“Ket, Mesektet,” the Beast was chanting.

Angel shook away the memory and announced, “Now or never.”

He raised his sword and attacked along with Gwen, Spike and Gunn. Between the four of them, they forced the Beast backwards toward the portal. With a final leaping kick, Angel knocked it into the energy field where it suddenly disappeared.

Spike collapsed on the ground, gasping for unneeded air.

“We did it,” Gwen declared enthusiastically, but the grim faces around her didn’t share her enthusiasm. She looked up to see the sky growing ever darker. “Didn’t we?”

“Why is it still getting dark?” Fred asked.

“I told you once . . .” the Beast’s voice boomed behind them. They all spun around to see the Beast standing there as if he’d just pulled a Houdini act. “. . . You need not be my enemy . . . Angelus.”

Cordelia stared at the scene before her in shock. Now her vision made sense. “The answer is among you.”

Angel stared at the Beast in stunned silence. It bent, picked up the orb, put it in its mouth and swallowed before turning to Angel.

“We’ll meet again, Angelus.”

The Beast leaped out the window and vanished.

“My God,” Wesley's voice was dazed. “The sun . . . it’s gone. Completely obliterated.”

Cordelia rushed over as Angel helped Spike to his feet. “Angel, we have to talk . . .”

“I can’t believe we lost the sun,” Fred's tone was mirrored on her pale, shocked face.

“I think I figured it out,” Cordelia continued to ramble.

“Yeah, the Beast knows me,” Angel filled in for her.

“No, it doesn’t,” Cordelia corrected him. “It knows _Angelus_.”

At the mention of his true name, Angel looked around uncomfortably as everyone but Spike stared at him. Spike was still trying to get the foggy sensation out of his own mind.

“While you were dealing with it, it came to me,” Cordelia explained. “I wasn’t having a vision of the demon. I was having a memory of it.”

“How’s that again?” Gwen asked.

Cordelia ignored her and continued. “I told you, when I was a higher being I witnessed everything you’ve ever done as Angelus, but since I’ve been back my memory’s been fading until the Powers decided to jog it – I guess. Angel, I saw you, long ago, standing in a field of bodies _with_ the Beast.”

“You knew this thing and didn’t tell us?” Gunn asked with an accusatory tone.

“No!” Angel denied adamantly. “I couldn’t come up against something like that and not remember. I’m telling you, I don’t know this Beast, I’d remember.”

“It’s true,” Spike finally spoke up. “Angel’s got an eidetic memory.”

“Like you remember falling asleep before Manny got killed?” Gwen asked.

“What?” Angel queried.

“An inside job,” Gwen stated.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Angel asked angrily.

“It _means_ you’re a suspect. If Cordelia’s right, we should admit the possibility that this Beast may have some sort of power over you. Maybe it can make you do things and then make you forget doing them,” Wesley postulated.

“If _he_ forgot then why has it been rolling around in _my_ head?” Spike demanded. “I haven’t opened my mind to Angel since I got back.”

“You two have a telepathic link, right?” Gunn theorized. “It may have just slipped through the cracks, or the Beast was trying to make Angel remember and the memory shifted to you instead.”

“And it has a plan,” Cordelia continued. “The rain of fire, taking down Wolfram & Hart, even blotting out the sun . . . I think those were only the first steps to something bigger.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell any of you, because hell if I know what the plan is!” Angel growled.

“No . . . but Angelus might,” Wesley said. “There’s only one way we’re going to defeat the Beast.” He paused and looked around at each of them, his eyes finally locking with Angel's with grim finality. “We need Angelus.”


	8. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 57: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 7)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

_“Officials from the National Weather Service remain baffled as to the cause of this strange phenomenon. All that’s being reported at this mid-afternoon hour is what meteorologists are calling quote: ‘a localized abnormality,’ confirming earlier reports that outlying areas remain unaffected, while the sun over Los Angeles has, for all intents and purposes, been blotted out from the sky. The Mayor’s office has scheduled a news conference for six o’clock this evening regarding this bizarre development and what it may mean for the city.”_

“I’ll tell you what it means,” Gunn said as he turned off the television. “Soon as vamps everywhere realize this town’s open for business twenty-four/seven, there’s gonna be a huge rise in undead tourism.”

“We've got to find a way to bring back the sun,” Cordelia unnecessarily pointed out.

“Working on it,” Fred said from her perch at the reception desk, poring over stacks of books and papers. “Failing miserably, but working on it. I could really use some help deciphering some of these symbols – or, all of them, really.” She sighed tiredly and rolled her head, trying to work the kinks out of her neck. “I need Wesley.” She spared a glance at Gunn, and looked away. “His expertise, I mean.”

“Yeah, well Rogue Demon Hunter took off without a word,” Gunn said scathingly. “Right after Electro-Gwen decided to skip town when the going got tougher. Not big on teamwork, either of them. _The answer is among you_.” He gestured to Angel, who was in his office talking to Lorne. “ _He_ knows!”

“He doesn’t remember,” Cordelia pointed out.

“You saw it yourself, Cordy. He was making a pact with the Beast,” Gunn said.

“It wasn’t Angel in my vision, it was Angelus,” Cordelia reiterated.

“I’m starting to think maybe it’s time we met Angelus,” Gunn said. “Maybe Wes is right. Big Beastie has got to be stopped, and I’m fresh out of ideas. If there’s even a chance Angelus could have inside info we could use --”

“And you think he’d willingly turn it over?” Cordelia asked.

“I think it’s worth a try,” Gunn replied.

“Not going to happen,” Cordelia started to pace. “The gypsies cursed him with a soul so he could feel remorse – to make him suffer for all the people he slaughtered. Removing that soul is the only way to change Angel back into Angelus.”

“A lot easier said than done,” Fred said.

“The gypsy curse was specific. For Angel to lose his soul, he would have to experience a moment of perfect, pure happiness. And right now, happiness of any kind is in . . . kind of short supply.”

“You’re all fools,” Spike spoke up from his place at the settee.

“Excuse me?” Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “The guy who’s been cowering in the basement under the weight of his own soul has an opinion?”

“Yeah, and I just said it,” Spike snapped. “You don’t know the first thing about my Sire or me, except what you’ve read in Watcher’s diaries, and even those only give you a keyhole view.”

“Well, if I didn’t know when Angelus was loose and killing in Sunnydale, being on the first wave of the clean up crew, then reliving his past horrors in virtual wide-screen sense surround during my tenure in Floatyville pretty much makes me an expert,” Cordelia said derisively.

“Screw you and your tenure as a higher being, Cordy!” Spike growled. “I know my Sire better than anyone and you **_do not_** want him back to the forefront of Angel’s mind. You think you saw the worst of him in Sunnydale? He was playing cat-and-mouse with the Slayer. That wasn’t the worst he could do. Killing that gypsy teacher wasn’t his worst. Leaving nifty little drawings and dead fish in his wake wasn’t his worst. Those were just games.”

There were so many things Spike could tell them about the Sire he remembered. The Sire who was possessive of his family. The Sire who defied Darla for his childer. The Sire who pitted his childer against each other for the fun of it. The Sire who slaughtered entire villages and laid waste to metropolitan cities. The sea of bodies he saw in his mind and that Cordelia saw in her vision was just a small part of Angelus’s destructive nature. His Sire taught him how to be a vampire as they cut swaths through Europe. Sure, Spike took what Angelus taught him and escalated it to such a degree that they were run out of town by mobs on more than one occasion, but Angelus was noted in books as being worst vampire ever recorded and Spike ran a close second to him. Spike idolized Angelus up until he was cursed by the gypsies. When Angel wanted nothing more to do with him that adoration turned to contempt. Then, Angel mated with him and he’d come to respect both sides of his Sire. Angelus, though he had a sense of humor on the inside of Angel’s mind, when he was unleashed on the world . . . Angelus’s humor took on grotesque, macabre, murderous overtones. Cordelia understood nothing of Angelus no matter what she’d like to believe.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_   
**

Oblivious to the argument going on in the lobby, Angel leaned over his desk, talking to Lorne as the empathic demon sat in front of it.

“Are you sure?” Angel asked.

“Sorry scrumptious, I got nothing,” Lorne said. “Although, your choice of **_The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia_** might have thrown me a wee bit. I’m personally not huge with the Vicki Lawrence love.”

“It doesn’t make sense. I remember everything I did as Angelus. Every family butchered, every child slaughtered, every throat ripped out. I remember every detail of all of it.”

Lorne cringed with each descriptive word. “So how come you don’t have a smidge of recollection of a giant magma demon with ram horns and goat legs? Hey, all I can tell you, studmuffin, is if it’s in there, it’s buried deep – deep inside Angelus.”

“Then it stays there,” Angel stated with finality. “Even if I wanted it, there’s no way to bring Angelus back. There’s too much history between me and Spike to accomplish perfect happiness.”

**************************

**  
_Worship Temple_   
**

A man prayed in a sacred space lit by candles. He was interrupted by sounds of fighting in the hall. Someone threw a man through the beaded curtain that separated the room from the hall and the unconscious man landed in front of the praying man. The praying man looked up when Wesley entered the room.

“Rumor has it, you possess certain skills I require,” Wesley said by way of greeting as he wiped the blood off his knuckles. “I need a soul extracted.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

Angel walked out of the office, followed by Lorne.

“Did Lorne help you remember?” Cordelia asked hopefully.

“No,” Angel replied.

“Anything at all?” Cordelia inquired.

“Nothing,” Angel turned to Fred, “What have we got?”

Fred looked through her papers. “A puzzle with missing pieces and some cryptic gibberish.” She gestured to the object the Beast used in the sun-blocking ritual. “Angel, whatever power this device had got swallowed by the Beast. It won’t bring back the sun. Without the orb, it’s as useless as --”

“Us,” Gunn finished. “Face it man, we’re losing ground. Pretty much the only victory we can claim is we’re not dead yet.”

Angel looked around at everyone’s worried faces. “Okay, look, I know things haven’t been going our way lately, but . . . things change. We’re not down for the count yet, but the Beast is not our only concern right now. ’Til we figure out how to end eternal darkness, it’s a devil’s playground out there.”

“I’m not one to turn down a little pep, but I’d much prefer we had a plan,” Fred said.

Just then, Wesley walked in the front door. “Here’s one.” He gestured to the man who followed him in. “Him.”

“Who’s he?” Angel asked as Spike stood up and moved closer to his Sire to get a closer look at the new arrival.

“Wo-Pang. He can deliver Angelus to us,” Wesley replied.

“I thought you said --” Gunn began to accuse Cordelia.

“Me too,” Cordelia cut him off.

“Fred, would you mind brewing some tea for our guest?” Wesley asked.

“Oh, um, sure,” Fred said as she hopped off the seat and headed for the kitchen. “Right this way, Mr. Pang.” The man followed her. “I'm afraid we don't have anything exotic. Is there any special tea you . . .?”

“How about Orange Zinger?” he asked.

Angel watched the two of them disappeared into the kitchen, and then glared at Wesley, nodding his head curtly towards his office. Wesley started that way with Angel following. Spike didn’t intend on going, but Angel caught his attention and silently invited him to join.

Once they were closeted in the office, Angel rounded on Wesley with angry eyes. “What do you mean, _deliver Angelus_?”

“Wo-Pang’s a shaman, order of the Kun-Sun-Dai,” Wesley explained.

“Dark mystics?” Spike asked before he growled, “Are you out of your bloody buggering mind?!”

“You brought a dark mystic here without consulting me?” Angel added just as angrily.

“He claims he has the power to extract souls, and since you have yet found no happiness with Spike --” Spike and Angel’s twin growls cut him off. 

“He claims?” Angel asked trying to hold in his demon.

“Most importantly, he can restore them,” Wesley hurried to clarify. “Once we learn what it is Angelus knows about the Beast --”

“To hell with that,” Spike cut in.

“We’re not unleashing Angelus,” Angel insisted.

“You don’t have a choice,” Wesley said.

“Actually I do,” Angel countered. “That was it. You want to hear it again? _Not_ with the bringing.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Angel. There’s no Plan B, and we’re running out of time. People are in serious danger,” Wesley cajoled as if he were speaking to a toddler.

“Turning Angelus loose is the last thing we should do,” Angel said. “If he’s here, I’m not. I won’t be able to protect anyone from the Beast or from _me_.”

Spike knew what his Sire was capable of. In Sunnydale, Angelus went insane after a hundred years of having a soul when he was set free. If Sunnydale was anything thing to go by . . . he could just imagine the destruction Angelus’ release would incur on Los Angeles. Spike alone couldn’t save everyone. Hell, even though Angelus claimed to be better, Spike couldn’t predict his Sire’s state of mind and how his Sire would react to _him_.

“It’s only temporary. We’ll take all the necessary precautions in the interim, contain you. I’m not blind to the risks. I know what Angelus --”

Spike laughed mirthlessly. “Precautions? There aren’t enough precautions in the world to prepare yourself for Angelus, human. He’s not a rabid pet. He’s the most notorious vampire in the known world.”

Angel could hear the admiration of his soulless counterpart in Spike’s voice. His boy loved him in both versions; he could hear that emotion in Spike’s voice too. He would have reveled in Spike’s praise if Wesley wasn’t there and so damn adamant to walk on the dangerous side of his psyche.

“You have no idea what Angelus is, Wesley. All you know is what you’ve read in books. You’ve never had the _pleasure_ of his company, and you’re not going to. Spike, let’s go.” He walked to the door and opened it, allowing Spike to leave first. “Get rid of that shaman,” he ordered before slamming the door behind him.

Angel continued walking straight out the door to the courtyard. The people in the lobby watched the dark vampire walk by, but didn’t stop him. Spike followed his Sire, partly out of curiosity, partly out of worry. Angel’s existence had always been torn between his soul and his demon. Now, he had to make a detrimental choice between one or the other. Spike remained on the terrace while Angel went down the steps and sat on the stone bench situated against the foundation wall of the terrace.

“Can you imagine what would happen if Angelus was out and running loose?” Spike asked, putting the question out there in the open rather than pretending they didn't have to consider the possibility. Sure, they’d tossed the idea around when it was just the two of them in a room, and come up with a thousand and one scenarios. Ultimately the single thing that ended the discussion was acknowledging that Angelus was dangerously unpredictable.

“He claims he’s better and that what happened in Sunnydale was a fluke,” Angel replied.

“Angelus says a lot of things to turn the tides his way, especially between us,” Spike commented.

“Do you think Wes is right, that I’m being used by the Beast without even knowing?” Angel asked.

“Angel, if you were being used, _I’d_ know it. You aren’t. Whatever the Beast’s been doing, you still have your free will,” Spike assured him.

“Well, if I am doing its bidding then I’m already a danger to them,” Angel sighed.

“Not like the kind of danger Angelus would be to them and the whole soddin’ city. Bloody hell, I don’t even know how he’d react to _me_. I don’t think I could protect them. I’m just one vampire, but even though I was once his favored childe – now that I have a soul – I don’t think Angelus would take that news well.”

“You saved the world from him once,” Angel said.

“Yeah, well, he was insane back then and I didn’t particularly relish his mocking antics when I was stuck in a wheelchair with an injury he could have healed in a day with his blood,” Spike said.

Angel frowned. “I’m sorry for how he treated you.”

“Angel, he _is_ you. I know firsthand what you were like, but if he’s the only one who remembers what that pact was, then it’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Spike said.

“Can’t you just open your mind, let him in, and ask him?” Angel inquired.

Sure, he could do that, Spike reasoned, but that didn’t mean Angelus would tell him anything he didn’t want to. “After all these years being mated to you, wouldn’t you think that a pact with a demon made of rock would have come up in the conversation by now?”

Angel leaned back against the wall. Just thinking about it, trying to remember all their discussions and Angelus’ taunts inside his mind, gave him a headache. He looked up at Spike with a resolute expression.

Spike glanced at him. “What?”

Angel stood and went up the stairs and hugged Spike so tight that had he been human, the blonde vampire would have crushed ribs.

“Angel? What’s going on in that head of yours?” Spike asked, starting to worry now.

Angel released him and walked back inside with Spike following, confused as ever. He had no clue what he had said for Angel to make up his mind.

“We’re going to need a cage,” Angel barked as he headed for his office.

Spike stopped short when he heard that and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. His blood was like ice at the thought of what Angel was planning. He swore he’d dread the day Angelus made another appearance. It looked like that day had come.

“A cage?” Lorne asked, surprised.

“A strong one, about ten-by-twelve, steel reinforced, two-inch bars, maybe three,” Angel said more to himself than answering Lorne, “I’ll make some calls.”

As Angel shut the office door behind him, Gunn looked bewildered at everyone. “What – do you think something like that’s going to hold the Beast?”

“It’s not for the Beast,” Wesley started to say.

“It’s for _him_ ,” Spike interrupted, disheartened that he was about to lose his mate to an insane persona. He hoped what Angelus had been going on about how he’d changed all these years was true. He didn’t fancy another Acathla incident.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

Wesley welded the parts of a large steel cage. Angel strolled around the structure inspecting it. Spike, Gunn and Lorne also worked on the cage assembly.

“That’s it then,” Wesley announced as he turned off the welding torch.

Gunn held the cage door while Spike tightened the bolts. “You got it?”

“Yeah, Charlie,” Spike replied as he finished the job.

Gunn closed the door, and the clank sounded as grim as his expression when he turned to Angel. “The cage is solid, man.”

“All right,” Angel tossed his wrench to Spike, who caught it with easy grace. “Tell the shaman we’re ready.”

Lorne nodded and headed for the stairs. “Hey, uh, listen, Angelcakes. If it’s all the same with you I think I might sit this one out upstairs, hm? You know how dark magic unleashing the unspeakable evil gives me the heebies.”

“It’s okay,” Angel conceded. “Tell Cordy and Fred they don’t need to be down here either.”

“Gotcha, chief. Break a leg,” Lorne waved and trotted upstairs with a showman's casual jaunt.

“Spike?” Angel asked for the blonde vampire’s attention.

Spike paused in his inspection of the cage to give Angel an acknowledging glance. “What?”

Angel moved closer to the lithe vampire. “It’ll be okay. Just keep in mind that whatever Angelus says, whatever he does – remember _I_ love you. We may both be mated to you, but if it turns out he manipulated us to his own ends, _my_ feelings and actions were true.” Spike nodded, his tongue feeling too thick to speak. “If this works I’ll be out of commission for a while. I want you to, you know, take care of everybody. Keep them safe. I know it sounds like melodramatic bullshit, but you know it's true; if anything goes sideways with Angelus, you’ll have to kill him.”

Spike gazed at Angel with unutterable sadness at that prospect. “You’re telling me to kill my Sire, to kill _you_ , to murder my mate and live an eternity with that loss. You want me to thread a camel through the eye of a needle while I'm at it?”

“You’re the only one I trust to make the call, Spike. If . . . anything goes wrong I need you to do it,” Angel demanded quietly, touching their foreheads together. He’d have liked to have done more, but Wesley and Gunn were watching them.

**************************

**  
_An Hour Later_   
**

Spike, Gunn and Wesley were strapping Angel down to a table inside the cage. The vampires shared a look as Spike tightened the bindings around Angel’s chest with practiced skill. The shaman placed a jar on a table that was set up outside the cage.

“What’s that?” Cordelia asked from her vantage point on the steps.

The shaman glanced up at her before returning to his duties. “It’s the Muo-Ping, the receptacle that will house his soul.”

“Cordy, I don’t want you down here,” Angel all but growled from the cage.

Cordelia held her hands up in surrender. “Fine,” she acquiesced before stomping up the stairs.

The shaman stepped into the cage with Angel as Spike, Gunn, and Wesley exited the cell, into the room. The shaman closed the metal door behind them with a final clang, like a death's knell.

“It would be a prudent safety precaution to add the second lock on the door,” the shaman suggested.

“Do as he says,” Wesley ordered.

Gunn put another lock on the door and wondered if three locks would seem paranoid.

Spike walked up to the cage, gripping the bars. “Angel, are you sure about this?”

“No, but it’s the only way,” Angel replied.

“Close your eyes and don’t speak,” the shaman commanded. He put his hand on Angel’s head and chanted, “Wo qing qui wu xin zi li. Kun, zhen, xun, kan, li. Ci wo tong ling. Ji fao muo li.” He opened his eyes to reveal crimson irises, continuing to chant, “Wo hao zhao jue xin ze. Wan cheng ta de zi yuan.”

Spike tried to cling to the bars when he felt something snake through him like an arctic sword, but he collapsed to the floor. He was mated to Angel, and as the soul fled the body, Spike felt the loss as keenly as if his heart had been cut out and held up, still beating, before his unbelieving eyes.

“Spike!” Gunn exclaimed, rushing to the fallen vampire's side.

_Spike, can you hear me?_

Spike shook his head to clear it. He could have sworn he heard . . . _Angel?_

_Yeah. I think the spell worked._

_Where the bloody hell are you, mate?_

_Well, technically my soul is in the jar on the table behind you. So, I don’t know how I’m talking to you exactly since I’m doubling as potpourri._

_Back when Angelus was talking he used to jump between being in your head and mine. Do you think that’s what happened?_

_I’m not big on the metaphysical. I’ll give it a definitive, maybe._

Spike sat up with Gunn’s help and looked around. He saw Wesley standing close at hand and Gunn crouching beside him.

“Are you okay, man?” Gunn asked.

“Yeah.” Spike turned to look into the cage.

Angel wasn’t in residence anymore. Angelus turned his head to look out at his souled counterpart’s team as they warily watched him. He gave Spike a predatory smile the blonde knew all too well. “ _Sire_.”

Angelus laughed with low, dark humor and Wesley broke eye contact with the demon that used to be his friend and former boss. His expressive brown eyes focused instead on the Muo-Ping jar where a white plume of energy swirled around inside, glowing brightly and giving him hope for his friend’s return.


	9. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 58: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 8)_

  
  
**_Somewhere on the Streets of Los Angeles_**  
  
A stack of fresh newspapers bundled for morning delivery read: _“Crime Wave Shuts Down City”_. Spike grabbed the bundle, swinging it savagely at a vampire’s head. Suddenly, three other vampires joined the spontaneous fray. They seemed to jump out from every imaginable direction. Each time he knocked one down, another popped up to take its place like some insane whack-a-vamp arcade game.  
  
One of the vampires pushed Spike into a metal barrel near a water pipe attached to a brick wall. Spike twisted the metal wheel-knob on the pipe, releasing the gas trapped within. The vampires snarled loudly, disoriented. Spike managed to knock a couple of them down, but two more vampires grabbed him by each arm, holding him for a third vampire.  
  
“Let me guess -- out-of-towners?” Spike asked mockingly.  
  
“Yeah, Tucson,” the third vampire replied.  
  
The vampire moved closer, but Spike used the two vampires holding him as leverage and kicked the third one in the face, knocking him down. He broke free of his captors and engaged them in a fistfight. Spike triggered the release of the device attached to his arms. A hidden stake shot out past his wrist and dusted one of the vampires. He dodged the other who rushed at him, sending him through a window, and then staked the vampire. He punched the last vampire, throwing him into a billboard. When he fell to the ground, Spike picked up a sharpened piece of broken billboard.  
  
“Welcome to L.A.” Spike said in faux greeting before throwing the stake at the vampire, dusting him. “Bloody tourists,” he muttered under his breath. He turned around to leave only to stop short when he saw a dozen or more vampires walking toward him from the mouth of the alley. He turned around to retreat the other way and saw another swarm of them coming at him from the opposite end of the alley. "Tourists always travel in groups," he reminded himself.  
  


***************************

  
  
**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_**  
  
Wesley led the group into the office and opened the picture – an aerial view of a park – like a door, revealing a safe behind it. He twisted the dial on the safe door to the right combination. Cordelia stood behind him, holding the Muo-Ping jar containing Angel’s soul. Fred, Gunn and Lorne entered the room behind them.  
  
“Seeing Angel’s soul all floaty like that kinda makes me crazy,” Fred commented.  
  
“Yeah,” Lorne agreed. “But it’s not forever, sugarplum. We’re just borrowing it.”  
  
Wesley opened the safe door and held out his hands to Cordelia. She carefully passed him the arcane receptacle.  
  
“Don’t drop it,” Fred cautioned anxiously.  
  
Wesley gently took the jar from Cordelia and placed it in the safe. He closed the door then closed the picture over it, concealing Angel's resting place much like a mausoleum crypt.  
  
Turning to face everyone, Wesley announced solemnly, “Angel is gone.”  
  
“I can’t believe . . . it’s done,” Cordelia said sadly.  
  
“Taking out Angel’s soul, putting it in a jar. I hope we know what we’re doing,” Gunn said sarcastically.  
  
“If Angelus knows how to destroy the Beast, it’s all we’ve got,” Wesley said.  
  
“Yeah, otherwise, permanent midnight,” Lorne pointed out.  
  
“He’s dangerous, I know. I’ve seen it, but, we’re doing the right thing,” Cordelia said.  
  
“As long as we’re very careful,” Wesley nodded. “Before Angelus was ensouled, his viciousness was mythic. You’ve all read his history.”  
  
Everyone nodded. Fred expounded on what she read with a look of apprehension on her face. “Killing, maiming, torture . . .”  
  
“Puppies nailed to walls,” Lorne added and glanced at Cordelia. “Thank you, Cordelia, for that lovely image. But, uh, I think that brings us up to speed.”  
  
“There’s only one thing Angelus will be focused on; getting free to slaughter us.”  
  
“We’re Angel’s only link to humanity. Angelus will hate us for that. He’ll want to make us suffer.”  
  
“Not to mention what might happen if he gets out and teams up with Spike again,” Gunn said.  
  
“William the Bloody, maybe,” Wesley said. “Who knows how he’ll react to Spike with a soul. Watch the monitor when I go down there. Pay attention to everything he does, everything he says. He’ll try to confuse you, to play on your emotions so you drop your guard. If he succeeds – even for an instant – we’re all dead.” Wesley started pacing. “I’ve spent my whole life training for this, and I’m still not ready. He’s smarter than I am, and a great deal more focused. He’ll exploit everything Angel knows about me – us – and go for the jugular. Whatever he’s got in his arsenal, I won’t see it coming.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Basement_**  
  
In the darkest corner of the cell, Angelus sat on the floor looking more relaxed than Angel ever was, singing to himself. “ _If you go into the woods tonight / you won’t believe your eyes / if you go into the woods tonight / you’re in for a big surprise_ . . .”  
  
Angelus stopped singing when he heard Wesley coming down the stairs. He rose from his spot in the cell, watching from the familial shadows as Wesley approached then stopped, standing a few feet away from the cage.  
  
“Angelus,” Wesley said in greeting.  
  
“Wes,” Angelus acknowledged. “Why the long face? Aren’t you happy to see me?”  
  
“Should I be?” Wesley asked.  
  
“Well, if it wasn’t for you and your shaman friend, I wouldn’t be here,” Angelus said in a soft, measured tone. “I’m feeling the love.”  
  
“The choice was Angel’s,” Wesley pointed out.  
  
“Angel, schmangel,” Angelus scoffed. “You’re the man with the brain. I can smell you, Wes. You’re creaming your pants at meeting me. You’ve had wet dreams about me since you met Angel in Sunnydale.”  
  
Wesley chose to ignore the innuendos. “Are you comfortable?”  
  
Angelus looked around his sparse cell. “Nice acoustics. I wouldn’t hate a chair.”  
  
Wesley rearranged the gun he held and started pacing. “You’ll have to forgive the accommodations. The last time you were free, you terrorized Sunnydale.”  
  
Angel closed his eyes, relishing the mental image of Buffy, fighting her, taunting her. “Mmmm, that Slayer – she’s a pistol.”  
  
“I’ve imagined this moment many times. Years of study, research . . . I’ve read everything ever written about you . . .”  
  
“Stop, I’m blushing,” Angelus smirked. “All those Watcher’s diaries don’t do me justice do they?”  
  
“To be one-on-one with the legendary Angelus,” Wesley continued, sitting in a chair a few feet away from the boundary line painted in front of the cage. “As a former Watcher, it’s a high point.”  
  
“Buttering me up. Getting me all relaxed, hm? Not the most innovative interrogation technique, but . . .” Angelus stepped closer the bars of his cell and whispered, “You know, if you want a reach around, all you have to do is ask. I can be very obliging.”  
  
“I just need to know some things,” Wesley said.  
  
Angelus stepped back from the bars and assumed an air of innocence. “Hey, open book. Anything you want to know; how sweet that virgin gypsy tasted, the special smell of a newborn’s neck, my first nun – now that’s a great story. Or, how about what Spike’s like as a lover.” Angelus raised his brows at that suggestion.  
  
“We could start there,” Wesley said.  
  
Angelus shook his head. “Don’t be coy, Wes. You’re just dying to know about the big Beastie. Fire away.”  
  
“All right,” Wesley cleared his throat and asked, “Did you know the Beast?”  
  
Angelus stared at Wesley. “Well, now that’s a question. Not a great question. Not even an insightful question. Not a Wyndham-Pryce-worthy question –”  
  
Frustrated, Wesley rephrased the question. “If you knew the Beast, why wouldn’t Angel remember?”  
  
“Hell if I know. Maybe he doesn’t remember the good times,” Angel said in a bored tone. “Maybe he won’t let himself.” Angelus rolled his eyes. “That’s so like him. You try to show him the good things in life and, tortured soul that he is, he flagellates himself endlessly for even the most impure thought. I swear, if it wasn’t for Spike I’d get no relief at all.”  
  
“So that’s why you drove Angel to mate with Spike? So you could get sex on a regular basis?” Wesley asked.  
  
Angelus glared at Wesley contemptuously. “I wouldn’t expect a Watcher to know the first thing about a Sire/childe bond. What I share with Spike goes deeper than sex.”  
  
“Is that why you tormented him when you free in Sunnydale? Because you have a deep, abiding love for your childe?”  
  
“He needed to remember his place. He was supposed to take care of Dru,” Angelus sighed. “I admit, Angel wasn’t at his best back then either. Family apparently does _not_ always come first with him.”  
  
“You allowed Spike to languish in a wheelchair for months,” Wesley prompted.  
  
“Do I tell _you_ how to discipline _your_ children?” Angelus inquired casually. “Oh, that's right, you don’t have any. Bringing up my relationship with Spike won’t get you what you want. What’s your angle, Wes?”  
  
Wesley leaned back in his chair. “My angle?”  
  
“You want to come down here, get your vital stats on lava boy, play the big hero –”  
  
“I want to know how to kill the Beast. It has nothing to do with being a hero,” Wesley objected.  
  
“Sure it does,” Angelus countered. “But why now? Can’t be because there’s an apocalypse coming – there’s always one of those around the corner.”  
  
“Enlighten me,” Wesley challenged.  
  
Angel walked up to the cage bars and quoted Yeats, “‘Foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.’ That’s where you live.”  
  
“Meaning?” Wesley asked.  
  
“You want to impress the girl. Move in, get her to love you, and after a couple days of flowers and chocolate-covered cherries,” Angelus slammed his hands against the bars causing Wesley to jump in his seat. “You’ll bend her over the kitchen counter and –”  
  
“Was that supposed to rattle me?” Wesley asked acting as if he hadn’t just reacted to any of the vampire’s taunts.  
  
“She’s kind of bony for my taste, but different strokes . . .”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
Fred watched the monitor with Gunn, Cordelia and Lorne. When Angelus said that she was too bony for his taste, she became crestfallen. She thought their one time together meant a little more to Angel than that. To Angelus it must have been insignificant.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
“The Beast called you an adversary,” Wesley continued.  
  
Angel leaned against the bars, caressing them with his hands. “I bet he loves to rub that shiny bald head against her soft, milky skin. Mmmm . . . good . . .”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
Lorne, Gunn, Fred and Cordelia watched Wesley and Angelus on the monitor set up on the reception desk.  
  
 _“Come on, Wes. Not like your schoolgirl crush is a secret,”_ Angelus said on the monitor.  
  
“Charles, remember, we can’t believe anything Angelus says,” Fred reminded him, shocked that Wesley still had a crush on her even after everything that had happened.  
  
Gunn crossed his arms and glared at her. “How about the stuff that’s true? Can we believe that?”  
  
“He distorts everything,” Cordelia said, vindicating Fred. “He lies with the truth. It’s part of what makes him so dangerous.”  
  
“Yeah, don’t let him get to you, kiwi,” Lorne said.  
  
“He’s not the only one that’s gettin’,” Gunn said through clenched teeth. He always knew Wesley had a crush on Fred. He considered it a victory when he stole Fred out from under Wesley’s nose.  
  
“Charles . . .” Fred warned.  
  
“I know. I know,” Gunn said, taking a breath to calm down.  
  
“It’s just words,” Fred remarked, trying to make herself feel better.  
  
 _“You’ve found a vulnerability and exploited it. Well done,”_ Wesley said on the monitor.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
“Can we move on now?” Wesley asked irritably.  
  
“I’m just getting started,” Angelus said. "Tell you this though.” He released the bars and began pacing his cell. “All of that digging you’ve been doing on the horny giant.” He pivoted on his foot, snapping around to face Wesley. “Wrong place.” He continued to pace.  
  
Wesley stood up, now taking a slight interest in the topic. “And the right place?”  
  
“I could tell you,” Angelus smirked. “But then it wouldn’t be sporting.”  
  
“But you _were_ adversaries – you and the Beast?” Wesley asked for clarification as he paced, mirroring Angelus.  
  
“A guy like me? Friends, enemies . . . hard to keep track,” Angel replied disinterestedly.  
  
Wesley stopped and stared at Angelus, five feet and a cage separating them. “If he was an enemy, I’d be doing you a favor by destroying him.”  
  
Angelus chuckled. “You know, you’re not fooling anyone. Get some new clothes, cool haircut, hit the gym – you’re still the same loser none of the kids wanted to sit with at lunch.”  
  
“Yet, you’re locked in that cage and I’m out here,” Wesley retorted with less venom than he intended.  
  
“So?” Angelus shrugged as if where he was physically didn’t matter a bit to him. He walked up to the bars. “You’ve got no leverage. What are you going to do? Kill me?”  
  
“If I have to,” Wesley declared with uncertainty.  
  
Angelus chuckled, his eyes flicking to Wes' crotch. “Wait ’til they drop, Wes, then try that line again.”  
  
With more confidence, Wesley threatened, “I’ll put your soul back. You won’t talk, no problem – we’ll bring back Angel and be no worse off than we were.”  
  
“Making you a failure _again_ ,” Angelus pointed out.  
  
“You want to waste my time, you can rot down here,” Wesley snapped and walked away.  
  
“Nice stamina, Wes. No wonder Fred’s not interested,” Angelus taunted.  
  
Wesley stopped and turned to face the soulless vampire. “Whatever your connection to the Beast, clearly you don’t know anything that can help us.”  
  
Angelus watched him walk to the stairs before calling out, “Is this the part where I’m supposed to get defensive and start talking to prove you wrong? What else you got?” He walked to the back of the cage and leaned against the wall.  
  
Wesley stopped in mid-stride. “You must hate it – that Angel fights evil.”  
  
“Eats you up inside, doesn’t it? Seeing all those idiots flock around him, calling him a champion,” Angelus countered. He thought about it and posed a question, “Anyone ever call _you_ a champion?”  
  
Wesley faced Angelus. “I do my part,” he insisted, trying not to sound defensive.  
  
“Right,” Angelus agreed, nodding. “Like letting Lilah suck Lorne’s brain just because you fucked her. Or, here’s an oldie but a goodie – Faith. Good job being her Watcher. She turned out to be a peach.”  
  
Wesley walked up to the cell boundary line. “And _you_ managed to get your soul back not once, but twice, saving the world several times in the process. Nobody’s perfect,” he taunted.  
  
“Then there’s setting up Spike to be killed by Holtz as vengeance for him confronting you over your attack on Fred under the influence of Billy Blim’s demon blood. Ever notice Spike hasn’t looked at you the same way since?”  
  
“He survived,” Wesley unconvincingly defended his actions.  
  
“Just barely. He nearly died from that poisoned stake,” Angelus reminded him.  
  
“Only to have you – Angel – kick him out of the hotel and on the path to obtain his own soul,” Wesley countered.  
  
“I knew I smelled something different about my boy’s essence. It took a little longer for Angel to figure it out,” Angelus said mockingly.  
  
“In Cordelia’s vision, you and the Beast were standing on a field –” Wesley started to change the subject.  
  
“Oh, God, yeah!” Angelus walked up to the bars. “Let’s talk about Cordy, shall we? Now, there’s a rack to write home about. Too bad about the personality, though. Yap, yap, yap, yap. Chicks. Hey, who’s a guy gotta kill to get a drink around here?”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
“Sticks and stones, sweet potato,” Lorne consoled Cordelia from where he watched the monitor.  
  
Gunn reached over to turn off the monitor. “We don’t have to, l—”  
  
“No, I’m okay,” Cordelia said, stopping him.  
  
“Like you said – just little bitty bits of truth twisted all up into lies,” Fred observed.  
  
Just then, Spike walked through the front door, beaten and exhausted. They all turned to stare at him.  
  
“What the hell happened to you, man?” Gunn asked.  
  
“They’re coming from all over. Too many to fight,” Spike replied. He shrugged his coat off and started removing the devices from his arms that held the hidden stakes as he walked down into the lobby. “What are we all watching?”  
  
Wesley came up the basement steps, leaving the door open behind him. "He wants blood.”  
  
Spike glanced over at that. “Of course he does. He’s insatiable.” He eyed Wesley warily. “What were you doing down there, Percy?”  
  
“I’ll get it,” Fred volunteered as she turned and headed for the kitchen.  
  
“Me too,” Gunn agreed, putting some distance between he and Wesley before he punched out the former Watcher’s lights.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
Fred and Gunn walked down the stairs with blood for Angelus. Gunn came equipped with protection in the form of a crossbow.  
  
Watching them from the shadows, Angelus commented, “Othello and Desdemona. My favorite couple. Oh, wait, Desdemona wasn’t in love with the other guy. So much for standing by your man.” Angelus remained unfazed when Gunn pointed the crossbow at him. “Then again, you probably like her on her knees.”  
  
“Keep talking and I’ll sweep out the cage when I’m done,” Gunn threatened.  
  
“Oooh, provocative,” Angelus taunted. “Get me all riled up. You think that’s what your boss would want?”  
  
“I don’t have a boss,” Gunn said in no uncertain terms.  
  
Angelus chuckled. “You might want to tell Wesley that.” He turned his attention to Fred. “Ah, Fred. You look so fresh and sweet, but I hear you at night in your room with Gunn.” She took a tentative step forward. “The things you say. I’m lying there, listening, hands under the covers . . . I can’t help myself. It’s so . . . gripping. That’s when I have to wake up Spike and we fuck for hours. The growls he makes when I have him on the brink . . . and it’s all started by listening to the two of you.”  
  
Fred put the glass down on the far end of a dinner cart and pushed it closer to the cage. “You’re a pig.”  
  
Gunn aimed the crossbow at Angelus. “Step back.”  
  
Angelus stepped back and Fred pushed the cart closer to the bars. She stood there, holding the cart, waiting for Angelus to take the glass of blood. He picked up the glass, eying Fred, who refused to even look at him at first. When she finally met his gaze, he kicked the cart forward, causing her to fall forward on it where he could reach her. He pulled her up with her back toward him and put his arm around her neck. Gunn pointed the crossbow at Angelus, but with Fred in the way he couldn’t take the shot.  
  
Having seen the whole show on the monitor, Spike raced down the steps to witness the standoff between the vampire hunter and his Sire.  
  
Fred struggled against Angelus and he taunted, “I like the way you wiggle, Fred. Do it just a little to the left.”  
  
“Charles,” Fred pleaded faintly.  
  
“Let her go, Angelus,” Spike spoke calmly as he walked closer, seemingly unafraid of the vampire who made him.  
  
“Nice of you to finally join us, William,” Angelus greeted as he tightened his hold on Fred’s throat. “I can smell your soul, boyo. Put your hand in with the White Hats did you? You were always such a precocious childe.” Angelus turned up his nose at Spike as if he had a foul odor about him. “Now look at you. All souled up and lovesick.”  
  
“Didn’t stop you from shagging me through the bed for the past few months did it?” Spike snapped back.  
  
“It didn’t stop me – I mean Angel – from screwing this fine piece of ass while you were away getting your soul either,” Angelus slyly revealed.  
  
Gunn cocked the crossbow as he, Spike, and Fred stared at each other, wide-eyed, at Angelus’s confession. The crossbow faltered as the information sank in and he stared at Fred, devastated by what she’d done to him.  
  
Dispassionate of the turmoil going on inside Gunn, Angelus continued to address Spike, “Remember when we used to share our kills? Like the dead bride in the coach? You should have been there, William, she was so pliant and needy.” Angelus took a deep scent of Fred’s neck, making her cringe at his nearness. “I would have mistaken her for little Buff if she had any of the strength that went with being a Slayer. Unfortunately, she lacked in the inner muscles department, but after a few sappy kisses and some masterful licking, that little bit turned to mush in my hands.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
“Angel had sex with Fred?! Why weren't we all dead long before now? When did that happen, and why wasn’t I told? ” Cordelia asked incredulously of no one in particular.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
Fred watched the completely different reactions of the two men in front of her as Angelus continued his confession.  
  
She stared at them in horror as all of her sexual secrets were laid bare on the basement floor for Gunn and Spike to see, as well as those watching on the monitor upstairs.  
  
Gunn stared at her with shock and disgust at the mental imagery Angelus' words invoked. Spike wasn’t thrilled about hearing of his Sire’s exploits while he was gone, but he also wasn’t surprised by them either. It was par for the sexual course of ways Angelus chose to hurt him.  
  
“At least tell me she was a better fuck than Darla,” Spike said disdainfully, knowing that comparing anyone to the frigid bitch Angelus called a Sire would cut just as deeply.  
  
Angelus glared at Spike for even bringing up Darla. He tightened his hold on Fred’s neck, causing her to rise up on her tiptoes to keep from suffocating.  
  
“How about we _both_ find out, boyo?” Angelus asked as he reached down to pull up Fred’s skirt.  
  
Fred’s frightened eyes flashed at Spike, pleading silently for him not to go along with what Angelus planned. She couldn’t live with herself if Angelus – who thought so callously of her indiscretion with Angel – raped her in front of Gunn.  
  
“Now, Wes!” Spike yelled as he lunged forward to grab Fred. He’d heard the former Watcher enter the basement behind him and felt him as he lingered on the steps. Just as Wesley pulled the trigger, releasing the tranquilizer dart, Spike tackled Fred to the ground and rolled away from the cage. Angelus growled in surprise at the dart protruding from his chest and, in a blink of an eye, saw two more appear as if by magic. He looked up at Wesley holding the gun and then at Spike before collapsing backwards on the cell floor, unconscious.  
  
Spike looked at his Sire’s unmoving body and then at Fred who was curled against him. “Are you okay, luv? Did he hurt you?”  
  
“I-I-I’m fine. I’m sorry. That was stupid of me to get so close. I should’ve –”  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Wesley said as he walked past her and Spike to look in on Angelus.  
  
Gunn went over to Spike and Fred, helping them up.  
  
“I tried to warn you all that he was unpredictable,” Spike said. “He’ll take any opportunity afforded, no matter how small.”  
  
Wesley turned to Gunn as he rested his crossbow on his shoulder. “It’s understandable, but you played right into his hands. Never drop your weapon.” With that Wesley walked up the stairs.  
  
“Are you really okay?” Gunn asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Fred replied. “I’m just glad you’re here.”  
  
Wesley looked back over his shoulder to see Fred and Gunn hug.  
  
Spike looked into the cage at his unconscious Sire. He'd had an inkling something intimate happened between Angel and Fred. He’d seen an awkwardness between the two of them since he got back that wasn’t there before he left. It hurt his poet’s heart that Angel would act upon his desires after all of his professions of love and fidelity. He'd even kicked Spike out of the hotel for having an affair with Buffy, then went out and did the same with Fred, mixing up the poor innocent girl in their bitter, age-old one-upmanship games that were meant to punish each other.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
“Lorne, why didn’t you say anything about . . .? I thought you could read people?” Cordelia asked.  
  
“It wasn’t my place to say anything. You know I never tell what I read in another person, lamb chop. That's privileged information.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_**  
  
Wesley was involved in research when Fred walked into the room.  
  
“Hey,” she greeted softly.  
  
“Hey. Are you okay?”  
  
“I just wanted to thank you.” Fred looked around guiltily. “If you hadn’t come in when you did . . .”  
  
He didn’t know if she was afraid of Gunn or Angelus appearing there, but Wesley looked out into the lobby and then at Fred, reassuring her, “He’s not there.”  
  
“It’s –” Fred began awkwardly. “It’s – Charles heard what Angelus said. You know, before he let it slip about our one night, the stuff about –”  
  
“Me,” Wesley completed her thought.  
  
“Yeah, and —” Fred started to say.  
  
“How I feel about you,” Wesley assisted again.  
  
Fred gave him a nervous smile. “Yes, which is very sweet. There’s nothing wrong with i—”  
  
“Yes, there is,” Wesley stated flatly. He walked up to Fred and put his hand on her neck, kissing her passionately. She put her hands on his shoulders, but slid them down to his chest and pushed away from him.  
  
“Hey,” Gunn called from the lobby. Wesley and Fred turned away from each other just before Gunn walked into the room. “Who’s watching the monitor?” He looked suspiciously between Wesley and Fred. “What’s going on?”  
  
“Uh, nothing,” Fred said unconvincingly.  
  
Gunn glared daggers at Wesley. “Did he just –?”  
  
“Of course not,” Fred interrupted all-too-quickly. She tried to push Gunn out of the room. “Charles, you’re right – the monitor.”  
  
“You better tell me what the hell I just walked in on,” Gunn demanded.  
  
“We were just –” Fred spared a glance at Wesley.  
  
“What?” Gunn sneered at Wesley. “Researching?”  
  
“You want to do this then deal with me. Leave Fred out of it,” Wesley said as he stepped into Gunn’s personal space.  
  
“You’re the one that ought to be leaving Fred out of it!” Gunn shouted, pushing Wesley.  
  
“Hello, I’m here,” Fred pointed out from behind Gunn.  
  
“You think I don’t see the way you look at her?” Gunn asked rhetorically.  
  
“Charles, please,” Fred begged them to stop.  
  
Gunn rounded on her. “And you. How many times have you fucked Angel behind my back? And you keep running off to Wes every time you need help, like I’m not good enough in either department!”  
  
“No, it’s not – That’s not—” Fred started to object. “This isn’t the time.”  
  
“I’m telling you,” Gunn threatened Wesley. “Stay away from her.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
Angelus slowly woke as the tranquilizer darts began to wear off and heard the squabbling upstairs. He smiled and laced his fingers behind his head, grinning. “That was fast.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
“—Long time since you were out for anyone but yourself,” Gunn was saying.  
  
“I owe you nothing. Not anymore,” Wesley countered.  
  
“You just take what you want, huh—?” Gunn accused.  
  
Fred pushed Gunn out of the office and into the lobby. “Come on.”  
  
“—No matter who it belongs to,” Gunn finished.  
  
“I didn’t realize Fred came with a deed,” Wesley shot back.  
  
“Stop it! What’s wrong with you two?!” Fred shouted over the bickering.  
  
“You don’t realize a lot of things, like the fact that nobody wants you here!” Gunn yelled.  
  
“’Cause you’re doing such a bang-up job without me,” Wesley sniped.  
  
Spike, Cordelia and Lorne came into the lobby from the courtyard. Upon hearing the ensuing argument that could almost-but-not-quite rival one of Angel and Spike’s fights, Lorne tried to calm everyone, “Hey, hey, come on, guys. Let’s not say anything that –”  
  
“Shut up, Lorne!” Gunn bit out before rounding on Wesley again. “Great idea, Wes, nearly sending Spike to his death by Holtz’s hand! Was the poisoned stake your idea too!?”  
  
“Go ahead! Throw around some more blame, it’s what you're best at,” Wesley shot back.  
  
Gunn stepped closer to Wesley, yelling, “You want to say that again?”  
  
“Oh God,” Fred all but cried. She’d caused this. The ripple-effect from sex with Angel reverberated in the lobby of the Hyperion between the two men she cared about most in the world. The sex act in and of itself didn’t seem like much on the surface, but it was a domino that her choosing to go Wesley instead of Gunn for her problems, had tipped over.  
  
“Face it, Gunn, you can’t give her what she needs,” Wesley said softly.  
  
Gunn drew back and punched Wesley in the face. The former Watcher stumbled back, but stayed on his feet.  
  
“Charles!” Fred shrieked in shock.  
  
“Spike, _do_ something!” Cordelia said anxiously, tugging on Spike’s arm.  
  
“What do you want me to do?” Spike asked as he watched the fight. “This has been boiling for a while now. I’d say let them beat each other to bloody pulps and be done with it. Then they can move on.”  
  
Wesley retaliated by punching Gunn in the torso twice.  
  
“Stop it!” Fred cried.  
  
Gunn grabbed Wesley and pushed him against the front desk.  
  
“This is insane!” Fred yelled at Gunn. “You’re doing exactly what Angelus wants.”  
  
“Actually, I think he was expecting me and Gunn to have it out since you slept with Angel,” Spike commented.  
  
“One fight at a time!” Gunn yelled. “Not that I can’t kick both your asses at the same time.”  
  
Just then Wesley got Gunn with a right hook which Gunn returned with a punch of his own.  
  
“Oh, for the love of Mike Tyson –” Lorne started to say.  
  
Gunn inadvertently hit Fred in the face with his elbow as he hauled back for another punch at Wesley. Fred cried out in pain as she fell to the floor, covering her busted lip with one hand. Cordelia ran to Fred’s aid and looked up at Gunn with a censuring glare that shamed him.  
  
Gunn stopped short, his fist still clenched around part of Wesley’s shirt collar, holding him in place. He looked down at Fred's shocked face, feeling a lump of ice form in the pit of his stomach at what he'd done. “Fred . . .” he began.  
  
Out of nowhere, Spike hauled back and punched Gunn in the face, laying him out flat on the floor. “Touch her again, Charlie boy, and I’ll do more than lay you out.”  
  
With that, Spike stalked out of the room and down the steps, slamming the basement door behind him.  
  
Spike knew exactly whose fault that fight was and he would damn well confront the evil bastard that was his Sire. He stomped down the stairs and didn’t stop until he was mere inches from Angelus’ cage.  
  
“I hope you’re bloody pleased with yourself, Sire,” Spike accused.  
  
“They’re humans. Who knew they’d be so easy to rile?” Angelus replied from a dark corner.  
  
“Angel warned me not to believe anything you said, but the truth is you’re the same deceitful, manipulative sod you always were. You constantly pitted all of us against each other. Darla and I despised each other up until the end when she died as a _human_ because of the way you controlled us like chess pieces. You’d tell me one thing and Drusilla or Darla another, and then you’d sit back and watch us go at each other. How many times did you have Drusilla and I competing for your affections, Sire? It was countless and more often than not while you were loose in Sunnyhell. One hundred and thirty years is a long time and I remember everything you did to me. I recognize what you’re trying to do to the humans upstairs ’cause you did sod all to us! You see, Angelus, I’m not afraid of you.”  
  
“So, little Willy has finally grown a spine, has he?” Angelus commented with a self-satisfied smirk. “You’re mated to me. There’s no going back on that deal.”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re so happy about, _mate_. I didn’t mate with you out of loyalty or familial obligation. You _and_ Angel have demonstrated that neither of you know the meaning of either term.”  
  
“Then why did you?” Angelus challenged.  
  
“Love,” Spike stated simply, looking straight at his Sire.  
  
“Forever Love’s bitch, eh William? Demons can’t _love_ , remember. We have no sentiment,” Angelus spat as if the very word left a bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
“That’s what you’d like the humans upstairs to believe, wouldn’t you? You may be a soulless prick raised by a heartless whore, but not all demons are like you, Angelus. For twenty years you tried to beat, claw, and rip the humanity out of me when I was a fledgling. You always failed. The love you feel as a human doesn’t go away when you’re reborn as a vampire.”  
  
“Yeah, Darla tried selling me that line after I’d killed my human family,” Angelus cut in.  
  
“Finally something on which she and I agree. Too bad the syphilitic whore isn’t around to share in our newfound togetherness. _You_ taught me a lot of things, mostly how to hate you over the years, but that obsession you had for tormenting the Slayer back in Sunnyhell, for using Drusilla to torture me; that obsession is _love_. You can’t obsess over something you don’t care about. Ain’t that a fair cop, Sire?”  
  
“Is that what you think, that I _care_?” Angelus taunted from the shadows.  
  
“ _You_ were the one who chose to turn me,” Spike said. When a glint flashed in Angelus' eyes at that, he gave his Sire his most flirtatious smirk. “All these years being mated, and having you bounce between me and Angel, and you never picked up that I knew? Drusilla may have followed me into that barn, but we both know that she doesn’t do anything without her precious Daddy’s say-so. _You_ sent her after me, and when you distracted Darla, you came looking for Drusilla and me. She’d bitten me already by the time you got there, but _you’re_ the one who turned me. You made me, but you couldn’t let Darla know. After the way Drusilla turned out, Darla forbade you to make a new childe, but you, cold-blooded bastard that you are, couldn’t let me go. One brief meeting on a London street and you developed a whole new obsession for me. You turned me, buried me, and had Drusilla wait until I’d risen. You made her promise that when she brought me to the meet the rest of the family that she’d never tell anyone – especially Darla – about my true Sire. Drusilla would do anything to please her Daddy, especially when he gave her a new dolly, but your obsession for me got the best of you and you took me back in a Sire-claim.”  
  
“Wow, Will, such a stomach-churning, touching story could only be dreamed up by a bloody awful poet,” Angelus replied sarcastically.  
  
“Thank you,” Spike said with a mocking bow. “Except, it’s the truth. I grant that you had it buried good and bloody deep, I only found it while I was inside Angel’s mind one night, when he was vulnerable, but he confirmed it.”  
  
“Did he, now?” Angelus drawled.  
  
“It’s not any more of a story than Angel fucking Fred,” Spike said.  
  
“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on that. Too bad it was only the one time. He was so guilt-ridden afterward because of how he _betrayed_ you with her that he didn’t try again. Git.”  
  
“We both have a penchant for going once around. However, my shagging the Slayer took a bit longer. Unlike you, I didn’t stop at the one time. I can see how you lost your soul with her. All of those inner muscles are strong enough to squeeze the soul right out through your dick.” Spike lightly smacked his chest. “However, my soul is permanently attached. Couldn’t lose it in some bint’s quim if I tried.”  
  
Angelus slammed himself against the cage, clenching the bars so tight that Spike was surprised they didn't bend, and growled deeply. The younger vampire could smell the arousal on his Sire.  
  
“All this talk about sex and obsession finally getting to you, Sire? Wanna claim me for yourself just like Angel did? Feel the need to fuck me through the floor and rip out my throat at the same time?”  
  
Angelus gave a lusty snarl and reached for Spike. The blonde vampire anticipated his Sire’s impatience and deftly jumped back to the safe side of the boundary line before Angelus’ hand could snake out and grab him. In fact, he was mere inches from being ensnared by his Sire when his quick reflexes came into play. It was a move reminiscent of a few years ago when he had Angel strung up in the warehouse and his taunting caused Angel to lunge for him even when the elder vampire was in chains.  
  
Spike gave his Sire an admonishing look. “None of that, _mate_. Here’s the deal: you tell us about the Beast, everything you know, and I’ll lock myself in the cage with you. You can shag me until all that’s left between us is a century-old history of blood and bone. It’ll be mythic, they’ll write books about us. Maybe even have a TV series or two made in the process.”  
  
“Agreed,” Angelus growled.  
  
“Hang on a tick,” Spike cut in. “Before you so readily give over . . .”  
  
“I knew there'd be a catch to it,” Angelus groaned.  
  
“I'm your prize . . . _only_ if the info you provide is credible _and_ saves humanity from this permanent midnight express,” Spike smirked.  
  
Angelus gripped the bars of his prison. “ _Oh, Billy_ – you seem to forget, I can have you anyway. We’re connected in a way humans can only dream about.”  
  
“I’ll give you that, and with our telepathic connection, you _could_ have me anyway, but as long as the cage is between us,” Spike stepped closer to the cage in question and caressed his Sire’s fingers, which remained wrapped around the cold, steel bars, before gazing at Angelus through his lashes, “that telepathy might as well be phone sex. It doesn’t beat the real thing.”  
  
“How do I know you aren’t setting me up, William?” Angelus asked.  
  
“We’ve known each other for a century. You made me. You raised me,” Spike replied.  
  
Angelus stared at Spike, gently prodding the barricade around his mate’s mind until the blonde let him in. He could see everything Spike was thinking about at that moment. Internally, Spike was beyond ecstatic to have his Sire back. Young William adored his Sire – to a point. He hated that a cage separated them. He could feel that Spike was just as aroused as he was, every fiber of his being yearning to throw open the cage and jump his Sire’s bones. Even though Spike hated how Angelus punished him, used him, taunted him, and made him feel inadequate, his boy still held out hope, just as he always did, that his powerful Sire would care.  
  
“What’ll it be, Angelus?” Spike asked, pushing him back into the here and now.  
  
Angelus growled in resignation. “Fine.” Spike turned away and headed for the stairs. “But remember, William, I can have you _any_ way I want.”  
  
Spike spared his Sire a seductive glance over his shoulder before he left the basement.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Office_**  
  
Wesley, Lorne, Fred, Gunn and Cordelia continued to stare at Spike. They'd been staring that way since Spike returned from the basement.  
  
“He’s ready, Percy, whenever –” Spike started to say.  
  
“I thought Angelus drove the mating ritual between you and Angel?” Wesley interrupted.  
  
“He did, but Angel was on the outside when it happened. Now Angelus has an opportunity to do his own mate claim on me – providing the info he gives us is good.”  
  
“I don’t see how that’s any different from your relationship with Angel,” Gunn said, making a face, as if any image of the two vampires having sex was a terrible thought.  
  
“What you hear from Angel and me is nothing compared to Angelus. It’ll be like two rabid lions mating in the middle of a battlefield. My Sire isn’t called the soddin’ king of torture for nothing,” Spike remarked proudly.  
  
“Are you sure about of this, Spike?” Lorne asked seriously.  
  
Spike gave him a barely perceptible nod. “You wanted info on the Beast, Percy. Best get down there and get it while he’s still feeling charitable – and horny.” Wesley nodded and headed for the basement. “Oh, and . . .” Spike stopped Wesley. “I wouldn’t get too close to the cage. He’s been in there a while with no blood – tranquilizer darts having impeded his last feeding – he’s bloody ravenous right now.” Wesley nodded. "In more than one way," Spike added. Wesley glanced around at the others worriedly, swallowed hard, then cautiously descended into the basement.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
Wesley sat in a chair eight feet away from the cage boundary line. Angelus stood beside the bars inside the cage. They'd been staring at each other in silence for several minutes.  
  
“All right,” Wesley prompted. “Shall we start from the beginning?”  
  
“It seems best to always start books at the beginning, don’t you think?” Angelus asked mockingly.  
  
Wesley ignored the tone and continued his interview. “The year?”  
  
“1789,” Angelus said with a wistful tone that might have been serious.  
  
“So, you were in Prussia,” Wesley said, remembering what he’d read.  
  
Angelus raised his eyebrows at that. “You _have_ been doing your homework.” He smiled fondly at his own memories. “Hmm . . . those Prussian girls. Must be the pastries. It’s worth the trip – all that sweetness gets into their blood.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
Spike, Lorne, Cordelia, Fred, and Gunn watched the interview from the monitor in the lobby. Cordelia thought popcorn was a seriously inspired idea, but didn't say so.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
“Very interesting,” Wesley commented with faux sincerity. “At some point, the Beast would appear?”  
  
“Patience Wes,” Angelus chided before continuing with his tale. “I was taking a shortcut on my way to Vienna, feeling like someone was watching me. There were troops around, I’d run into them now and then, not as sweet as the girls, by the way. Then there was this little massacre I ran into – seriously lacking in military precision – bodies, bodies everywhere, and not a drop to drink. So, I followed the trail, and ran into your stony friend, the one you so _cleverly_ call, ‘The Beast.’ Turned out we had a lot in common, but he already knew that. He's the one who'd been watching me. He staged the carnage just to impress me.”  
  
“So, he sought you out,” Wesley commented. “Why?”  
  
“Girl trouble,” Angelus replied. “Apparently he thought I might be able to help him with a situation.”  
  
“How?” Wesley asked.  
  
“Have you ever heard of the Svea Priestesses?” Angelus asked, and then went on to explain, “Very powerful, big into banishing.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
While watching the interview on the monitor, Lorne mumbled, “Vanishing?”  
  
Spike leaned closer to the empathic demon and clarified, “ _Banishing_.” When the others turned their gazes to him, he added, defensively, “What? I had a go with a couple of them.” When Lorne joined in the staring, Spike expounded, “Well, they were jealous sisters. You couldn’t go around seeing only one of them without the other two knowing so you did just as well to have it off with the lot. They were game for it.”  
  
“Huh,” the group said in unison, turning back to the monitor.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
“The Beast was next on their list,” Angelus was saying. “He couldn’t touch them – some kind of mojo – but a vampire could.”  
  
“So, he wanted you to kill them?” Wesley asked.  
  
“We had it worked out,” Angelus explained. “I’d scratch his priestesses, and he’d scratch my back somewhere down the line. A limited partnership, you could say.”  
  
“And?” Wesley prompted.  
  
“I declined,” Angelus replied. “He didn’t ask twice. I probably could have been more diplomatic with my refusal, but I’m not big on teamwork when I'm not the team captain. After he punched me out I thought that was going to be the end of me, but, like I said, girl trouble. I was experiencing 1978 double vision when a group of priestesses started up the whammy -- and there you have it.”  
  
“I thought it was 1789,” Wesley asked.  
  
“Foreigner? Seriously, Wes, were you strictly a Beethoven fan as a kid? Educate yourself musically,” Angelus said.  
  
"Nothing wrong with Beethoven," Wesley remarked under his breath. "Okay, so the Beast was banished," he commented. "How?"  
  
“Don’t know,” Angelus replied. “I was deeply involved in passing out.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Angel’s Office_**  
  
Spike, Cordelia, Gunn, Wesley, and Fred were researching the priestesses Angelus talked about while Lorne watched them, drinking a Seabreeze.  
  
“Slarf demons, spell mantras, Srail’gong technique, but nothing on –” Cordelia began.  
  
“The Svea Priestesses,” Fred interrupted, reading from her book. “Also known as the Svear; a mystical order all descended from the powerful, Nordic priestess, Svea.”  
  
“Apparently she did that whole, fruitful and multiplying thing,” Gunn remarked.  
  
“Anything about the Beast?” Spike asked.  
  
“Nothing definitive, but this one looks like it could match up,” Fred replied as she handed the book to Wesley. She felt a stab of guilt in the pit of her stomach when Gunn stalked out of the room, but they didn't have the time to spare on his hard feelings.  
  
Oblivious to Gunn’s silent tantrum, Wesley scanned the text. “Same region, approximately the same time period, this looks right.”  
  
Peering over Wesley’s shoulder at the book, Fred said, “I’m shaky on my Freyan runes, but it kinda seems like it’s a pretty generic description of who, or what, got banished.”  
  
“As far as I can make out it says something like, uh, big . . . hard thing,” Wesley translated.  
  
“That sounds like our guy,” Lorne remarked.  
  
"Or maybe it was a footnote about their date with Spike," Cordelia quipped.  
  
“That won't be in the gag reel of my mental movie,” Lorne countered. “So, where do we find these banishing babes, and how fast can they get to L.A.?"  
  
Gunn returned to the room and threw an open phone book on the desk. “About twenty-five minutes, depending on traffic. They’re in Pacoima.”  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Pacoima, Svear House_**  
  
Wesley, Cordelia, and Spike approached the house. There was a small sign on the wall near the door with the office hours listed for the Svear. Wesley dubiously rang the doorbell.  
  
“Looks like no one’s home,” Cordelia observed when no one answered.  
  
Wesley banged loudly on the door and there was still no answer. He tested the door knob and found it unlocked. He opened the door, and stepped inside. Cordelia and Spike followed closely behind.  
  
“The door was unlocked,” Wesley spoke loudly, so as not to startle any enchantress on the premises, as he walked around the foyer and meeting room. “Hello? Anyone home? Hello?”  
  
Spike followed Wesley for a moment then broke away and entered another room. “Hello? Nordic priestesses?”  
  
Cordelia perused the pictures in the foyer. “So, the mom’s a priestess?”  
  
“All of the females are,” Spike replied, picking up the scent of death and decay. Following it like a scent hound, he found several bodies on the floor of the kitchen.  
  
Wesley walked up behind Spike and looked into the room. “We’re too late. Again.” He moved past Spike, entering the kitchen to get a better look. Cordelia came up behind Spike and glanced into the room then gasped and blanched.  
  
“How does the Beast know exactly what we’re going to do? It’s like he’s psychic,” Cordelia exclaimed, distraught by the scene before her.  
  
“Maybe he is,” Wesley postulated casually.  
  
“Angelus could have sent him a mental message using some kind of demon Morse code,” Cordelia suggested.  
  
“Angelus and I have a telepathic connection that only evolves between mated demons. There’s no such thing as _demon Morse code_. And being that he’s trapped in a cage in the basement of the hotel, it's not bloody likely he made any phone calls,” Spike said.  
  
“A hotel basement that has _sewer_ access,” Cordelia pointed out.  
  
“I think we would have all _heard_ something as big as the Beast shambling into the basement from the sewer, Cordy!” Spike argued.  
  
During the escalating argument, Wesley crouched and checked the bodies. They were cold, and resolution of rigor, which occurred after seventy-two hours of death, had relaxed the corpses.  
  
“These people have been dead for a few days,” Wesley stated as he rose from his crouch. “Angelus had nothing to do with this.”  
  
“Which means,” Cordelia extrapolated, “by the time the shaman was going all chanty on Angel, it was already too late.”  
  
Spike crouched to examine the battered and broken children, with their equally broken and bloodied toys.  
  
“With all of the chaos outside, I'm guessing no one even noticed the attack,” Wesley said.  
  
“We should have seen this coming,” Cordelia remarked tiredly.  
  
“Shouldn't come as a surprise that the Beast would go after the priestesses,” Spike said as he stood up from his inspection of the scene.  
  
“Let’s have a look around before we call the police,” Wesley urged. Walking past a writing desk, he stopped and picked up a sheet of paper. “A banishment incantation. At least, I think it is.”  
  
“Do you think they were trying to get rid of the Beast?” Cordelia asked.  
  
“Seems so,” Wesley replied.  
  
Spike glanced at the refrigerator and frowned at a calendar posted there with a magnet. One of the days was marked ‘Daddy’s Birthday’ and had a heart-shaped circle around it.  
  
After they performed a thorough search of the house, taking anything that could be useful in fighting the Beast, they walked outside, wiping away fingerprints as they went, and shut the door.  
  
“I’ll go get the car, be right back,” Wesley said, disappearing around the corner.  
  
While they waited for Wesley, Cordelia looped her arm around Spike’s arm and looked up the sky. “The sun should be up right now.”  
  
“I know, pet,” Spike said as he glanced up at the dark sky.  
  
“It’s been a while since I’ve heard that endearment from you,” Cordelia said, giving him a small smile.  
  
“With the apocalyptic atmosphere hanging heavy over our heads of late, I haven’t been in the endearment mood,” Spike said, by way of an explanation.  
  
Suddenly, a vampire jumped out of the bushes behind them. Spike spun around and punched him, but another vampire emerged and attacked Cordelia, pushing her to the ground. Spike grabbed a stake from his side and dusted one vampire. When his buddy turned to ash, the second vampire lunged at Spike, engaging him in a fistfight until Spike threw the vampire across the street, into a collection of garbage cans. When Wesley pulled up in the Jeep Explorer, Cordelia and Spike jumped in. A third vampire clung to the bottom of the door, preventing Spike from closing it. Wesley looked out the windshield and saw a group of vampires trotting down the street toward them.  
  
“Come _on_!” Cordelia yelled anxiously.  
  
Spike kicked the vampire in the face. "I have had enough of you!" he punctuated each kick with a word, finally driving the vampire away from the door and slamming it shut. "Captain Kirkism," he explained to a wide-eyed Cordelia. “Let’s go, Percy.”  
  
Wesley slammed on the gas and sped away from the group of vampires, leaving them behind in a cloud of burned rubber smoke.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_**  
  
Lorne, Fred, and Gunn sat in the lobby watching Angelus on the monitor.  
  
“ _If you go into the woods tonight / you won’t believe your eyes . ._ _._ ” Angelus sang through the monitor.  
  
“He’s so relaxed,” Fred observed.  
  
“It’s like, he’s not even in a cage,” Gunn added.  
  
Lorne had been reading Angelus ever since he started singing an hour ago. What he read wasn’t good by any means; blood and gore, and sex with Spike, blood smearing both their naked bodies. “In his mind, he’s not.” Shuddering at the images he read, Lorne stood up and turned off the monitor.  
  
“Did you get anything off him?” Gunn asked.  
  
“Let me put it this way, moon pie, you don’t want to know.”  
  
Fred gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t. I definitely don’t.”  
  
Just then, Wesley, Spike and Cordelia walked in through the front door. Gunn, Fred and Lorne turned to them anxiously.  
  
“What happened?” Gunn asked upon seeing how ragged they looked.  
  
“Vamps,” Spike replied.  
  
“You didn’t get the Svear,” Fred noted.  
  
“No, the Beast did. He slaughtered the entire family,” Wesley revealed.  
  
“Guess he found a way to kill them after all,” Fred said sadly.  
  
“So much for our big priestess rescue,” Gunn observed.  
  
“Are we sure Angelus doesn’t know anything more?” Fred said uncertainly. “I mean, maybe we should talk to –”  
  
“No,” Wesley cut her off. “I think he’s told us everything he’s going to.”  
  
“Which means our last-ditch plan of turning Angel into a soulless monster was a bust. If Angelus can’t help us –”  
  
“It’s time to bring back Angel,” Cordelia finished.  
  
“Oh, and he’s usually so chatty,” Lorne quipped under his breath.  
  
Spike descended into the basement and shut the door without a word. Cordelia glanced at the door closing then back at Lorne. “Rough night.”  
  
“We’ll need the shaman,” Wesley said heading for the office.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Basement_**  
  
Angelus sat in a dark corner and watched Spike move closer to his cage.  
  
“And I thought you were halfway to Paris by now,” Angelus’s voice carried from the darkest recesses of the cage.  
  
“I told you I’d be back,” Spike said as he stopped at the boundary line.  
  
“How’d the little field trip turn out? Priestesses still feisty?” Angelus asked as he undressed Spike with his eyes.  
  
“There was a little boy, his little sis, parents and grandma – all dead,” Spike reported.  
  
Angelus sighed. “God, I’m always missing out on the fun stuff.”  
  
“The Beast got to them days ago,” Spike told him.  
  
“So? Did you bring me back a souvenir? Maybe a stray baby toe?” Angelus chuckled and stood up.  
  
“You should hear how loud I’m laughing on the inside, Sire,” Spike deadpanned.  
  
Angelus walked up to the bars. “Don’t blame me for that little debacle. I told you everything I know.”  
  
“Yeah, but it was a little late in the game, Angelus,” Spike said.  
  
“And whose fault is that? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I showed you mine. Now find that key, get your ass in here, and show me _all_ of yours. We have a lot of time to make up for.”  
  
“The deal _was_ : you give us info, we save humanity, you get me. Well, humanity is still stuck in eternal, total darkness.”  
  
When Spike turned around and ascended the steps, Angelus called after him, “You just wait ’til I get out of here, William! Then we’ll see who really reneged on our deal.”  
  
“Don’t think so, Sire,” Spike said cryptically. “Forgot to tell you the best part: we’re putting back Angel’s soul.  
  
Angelus chuckled. “Not going to happen, dear William.”  
  
“Oh, but it is, and just in time for the bloody apocalypse. Too bad,” Spike said, then thought about it. “I seem to remember another time when an apocalypse was started – by you – and the Slayer sent you to a hell dimension with a sword through the chest.”  
  
“Won’t be happening this time around,” Angelus guaranteed.  
  
“Shame we won’t be any closer than we are right now,” Spike commented airily as he gave the steel cage that separated them a once over.  
  
“I’ve been looking forward to it, still am,” Angelus said.  
  
“Well, guess we’ll have to schedule it for another time. Ciao,” Spike called out as he walked out of the basement and shut the door.  
  
“We aren’t even _close_ to being finished,” Angelus growled to himself as he watched Spike leave.  
  


**************************

  
  
**_Hyperion Hotel Angel’s Office_**  
  
Wesley opened the picture that concealed the safe, turned the combination lock on it then pressed the lever to open the safe door as Lorne, Fred, Gunn and Cordelia looked on nervously.  
  
Spike walked into the office where Lorne, Fred, Cordelia and Gunn were staring silently at the safe.  
  
“Okay, he’s ready to –” Spike stopped short when he noticed the look of shock on everyone’s faces. “What?”  
  
“Angel’s soul. It’s – gone,” Fred said, her tone as shocked as her expression.  
  
Spike’s eyes flicked to the empty safe. “ _Bloody hell_.”


	10. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 59: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 9)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Worship Temple_   
**

A shaman prayed in a sacred space lit by candles. The sounds of distant fighting broke into his concentration as it got louder and came closer – flesh meeting flesh, growling, objects breaking. The shaman, who was covered head to toe in a purple ceremonial robe, except for his eyes, threw a set of dice into the center of a chalk-drawn circle as he chanted. He glanced up as the body of a man was thrown through the beaded curtain that separated his room from the hallway, landing on the floor in front of the shaman, unconscious.

“Must acquire better guards,” the shaman mumbled to himself. He looked toward the door as Spike, Cordelia and Wesley entered the room.

“Angel’s soul was stolen,” Wesley said, his tone bordering on accusatory.

The shaman looked Wesley in the eye and said calmly, “I have no need for the vampire’s soul.”

“Then where is it?” Spike asked irritably.

“That . . .” the shaman rolled the dice and studied them for a minute. “I cannot discern, but it is still viable within the Muo-Ping.”

“Muo-what?” Cordelia asked equally as annoyed as Spike.

“It’s still safe in the container,” Wesley clarified.

“Okay, mate, I bet this sort of thing happens all the soddin’ time,” Spike said. “What do you have as a backup to re-ensoul a bloke?”

“There is no other way known to me,” the shaman replied. “Without the Muo-Ping . . .” he shrugged, “you’re screwed.”

“And what happens if the Muo – container thingy breaks or gets opened?” Cordelia asked.

“Then, like all things, the soul can be returned . . . or destroyed,” the shaman replied.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Gunn and Fred watched Angelus over the monitor set up on the reception desk. Gunn poured gasoline into a tank.

_“Awfully quiet up there,” Angelus said through the monitor. “I’ve had time to think, and I’ve realized something important. Being evil is wrong. I want to be good. I want to be Angel again. You hear me? I’m ready!”_

Gunn tested the flamethrower he’d just refueled. “I’m ready too, fang boy.”

Fred sighed. “He knows, doesn’t he? That his soul’s missing.”

“Probably knew before we did,” Gunn stated.

“I hope that shaman can help us,” Fred said.

“That shaman should never have been brought here. Now, instead of just worrying about the big bad Rocky, we got Darth Vampire living in the basement,” Gunn groused.

“Bringing out Angelus was our best chance,” Fred said conciliated.

Gunn glared at her. “Is that you talking, or Wes?”

“ _You_ were pushing for it too, Charles,” Fred reminded him.

“Then maybe I did the wrong thing,” Gunn snapped.

_“Like smacking around your girl?” Angelus said through the monitor. “I betcha Wes would never hit her. He’s so proper-- and English. And that accent – Oh, chicks just love a good accent. It makes ’em all buttery in their nether regions. Isn’t that right, Fred? You know, I had a bit of an Irish brogue back in the day. If you’d like, I could use it on you when I rape you to death . . . or—”_

“Son of a bitch,” Gunn said as he turned off the monitor.

“He’s just – It’s just words,” Fred commented shakily.

“Yeah,” Gunn acknowledged.

“And that’s the only way he can hurt us. He knows he’s never getting out,” Fred said more for her own benefit than Gunn’s.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Angelus smelled human sweat, sewer filth, and could hear an anxious pulse nearby. Lilah emerged from the shadows in the general direction of the sewer tunnels. Angelus smirked as she approached the cage carrying a crowbar.

“The great Angelus,” Lilah spoke in weary greeting.

Angelus took in her ragged, dirty appearance. “Oh, come on. You can do better than that. Try playing up the awe and the reverence a bit. ‘The _Great **Angelus** _.”

“Great –” Lilah laughed mirthlessly, “locked in a cage.”

Angelus walked up to the bars of his prison and gave her the once over with a contemptuous expression. “Yet managing to display better grooming habits than you.” He gripped the bars. “Look at yourself, Lilah. All of these year longing to meet me; you couldn’t run a comb through your hair, maybe slap on a little lipstick?” His tone turned condescending as he added, “Evil doesn’t mean _slovenly_.”

Lilah squared her shoulders and said calmly, “Stop it.”

“Ooh, feeling touchy, are we?” Angelus taunted.

“The Beast,” she clarified. “ _I_ want _you_ to _stop_ it.”

“Oh,” Angelus shrugged. “Not sure I really want to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a big fan of the horn job, although he did bring on permanent midnight. I gotta give him props for that.”

“Can you do it, or not?” Lilah asked through gritted teeth.

“Mmm,” Angelus thought about it. “Why is your thong is such a bunch, counselor? You’re the professional.”

“Working the sewers,” Lilah chuckled grimly waving the crowbar around randomly. “The Beast took everything, killed them all.”

“It’s all the damage. He does have a flair for it,” Angelus said with a tiny bit of respect for the demon made of rock.

“Not just at the office either,” Lilah said. “ _Everybody_. Field ops, liaisons, people out sick that day. But not _me_. Not yet.” She became exasperated. “Why is he picking on _us_? _We’re the bad guys_!”

“Apparently, not bad enough,” Angelus observed. “But there _is_ a bright side – you have a devoted boyfriend who loves and cares – oh, wait. You don’t.” Angelus chuckled evilly then deadpanned, “Your life really is crap.”

“And yet,” Lilah gestured to the cage. “I’m not the monkey in a box. I want that thing destroyed. As far as I can tell, you’re the only one who can do it.”

“Maybe . . .” Angelus looked her over and decided he might be able to overlook her shoddy appearance and the fact that she smelled of dingy sewer water. “We can work something out.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Gunn turned on the monitor, but left the volume muted. Neither he nor Fred paid it any attention, caught up in their personal drama. Fred’s arms were crossed over her chest as she listened to Gunn.

“What Angelus said about me – I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never do that,” Gunn apologized.

“I know,” Fred acknowledged, uncrossing her arms. “I just can’t help thinking that if you didn’t attack –”

“Attack?” Gunn interrupted. “That’s how you see it? I _attacked_ him? What do you call what _he_ was doing in the office before I walked in?” He asked accusingly.

Fred looked away guiltily and shook her head, beginning to deny anything happened. “I don’t know what –”

“He was _kissing_ you!” Gunn stressed. Fred looked at him, on the verge of denying it again. “Don’t lie to me. It’s the one thing you’re _not_ good at.”

“It just happened,” Fred sadly admitted.

“Like how you had sex with Angel? It _just happened_? It happened because you allowed it to happen! I’ve never felt so deeply for anyone. I would do anything for you – _did_ do anything for you, but that wasn't enough.”

“Charles, I’m –” Fred began to apologize.

“I can’t do this anymore, Fred. I’m tired of you looking everywhere except at me.” Wesley walked through the front door, followed by Spike and Cordelia. Fred turned to look and Gunn chose that moment as an example. “Like that.”

Fred glanced back just in time to see Gunn walk away from her. Wesley walked up to her and she turned around to busy herself with research before she broke down in tears. One minute she and Gunn were a couple and the next, Gunn broke up with her. With an apocalypse hanging over their heads, she didn’t have time to analyze what or how it happened, nor did she have the luxury to drown herself in a tub of ice cream.

Wesley noticed she was on the verge of tears and asked, “What is it?”

Fred sniffled and gestured to the papers in front of her. “I just can’t make heads or tails out of this banishing text. You guys have any luck?”

“Yes, all of it bad. The bloody shaman doesn't have the soul. And he knows sod all about who took it, and bollocks about finding it,” Spike replied.

Cordelia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Other than that, everything’s peachy.” She collapsed on the round settee in the middle of the lobby. “Any word from Lorne and his contacts?”

Gunn glanced at the monitor. “Damn it!” He grabbed a tranquilizer rifle and ran downstairs.

Seeing Gunn run to the basement door with the weapon, Wesley looked at the monitor and saw someone talking to Angelus. Wesley ran after Gunn. Cordelia, Spike and Fred followed after him.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Lilah heard someone coming and turned to look. Gunn ran down the stairs with the tranquilizer gun and shot at Angelus. The dart landed in Angelus’s arm as he reached through the bars to grab Lilah. The dark vampire winced at the sting. Lilah dropped her crowbar and ran out of the room, to the sewer access from which she'd emerged. Angelus collapsed, but Gunn continued to point the rifle at him, watching for any movement as Wesley and the others made it downstairs.

“Lilah,” Gunn said, addressing Wesley while still keeping an eye on Angelus. “She ran off into the sewers.” Wesley pursued Lilah and Spike spotted the crowbar on the floor. He stepped up to the bars and kicked the crowbar away from the cage before looking in on his unconscious Sire.

**************************

**  
_Sewer Tunnel_   
**

Lilah ran away through the sewers with Wesley in hot pursuit. She climbed a ladder, but Wesley was close behind and followed her up.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Gunn continued to point the tranquilizer gun at Angelus while Spike checked to make sure the locks were secure.

“What gave that witch the nerve to try freeing Angelus?” Gunn asked no one in particular.

“I want to know how she even knew he was here,” Cordelia remarked.

“Well, I doubt she was the one who took his soul,” Spike said.

“She’s a know-it-all from Wolfram & Hart. It’s her job to know everything evil,” Gunn said.

“I thought the Beast killed everyone at Wolfram & Hart,” Fred pondered. _So why was Lilah alive?_

“Maybe she cut some kind of deal with it,” Gunn postulated.

“You really think she has a connection to the Beast?” Spike asked.

“The Beast is evil, Wolfram & Hart is an evil law firm that represents malevolence,” Gunn commented, by way of an answer, but Spike knew things were seldom so simple –even when it came to evil.

**************************

**  
_Sewer Tunnel_   
**

Wesley continued his pursuit of Lilah through the sewer system when Lilah suddenly jumped out from an alcove, trying to hit him, but she was still weak and he easily dodged her arm. Lilah backed away from him holding her side.

“You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?” she asked as she leaned back against a wall and tended to the bleeding wound in her stomach.

Wesley moved closer to her. “When I said ‘go underground,’ I didn’t think you’d –” He stopped when he saw her wound. “Is that where the Beast –?”

Lilah nodded and winced. “I can’t make it stop.”

“I could take a look at it,” Wesley offered.

“No, I’m fine,” Lilah replied too quickly.

“How did you know we had Angelus?” Wesley asked.

“Big magic, taking a champion’s soul,” Lilah replied simply. “It makes ripples. I still know some people that are sensitive to ripples. That was your idea – to bring him?” Lilah smirked when he didn’t deny it. “Great minds . . .”

“Aren’t foolish enough to release him,” Wesley finished in admonishment.

“I wasn’t,” Lilah staggered to her feet and began to pace.

“So, the crowbar was . . .?” Wesley prompted.

“I had to make him believe I was desperate,” Lilah said.

Wesley looked her over. “Not much of a stretch, is it? And you always wanted Angelus.”

“Not me. Wolfram & Hart did, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I just – I just want my life back, and all of my perks and bennies. Call me selfish that way. That’s why we wouldn’t have worked out.” She gave him a small smile, accepting their doomed relationship for what it was.

“There are many reasons we wouldn’t have worked out, Lilah,” Wesley said softly. She looked away. He glanced around the area and saw a book on the ground. He picked it up and read, “ ** _Rhinehardt’s Compendium_**.”

“I needed to find a way to make it pay,” Lilah said defensively.

Wesley flipped through the book. “I already checked. There’s nothing in here that even remotely –” He noticed a passage complete with the Beast’s picture. “Describes him.” He examined the passage closely and closed the book, looking at her. “It’s identical to my copy except for this passage. How is that possible?”

“It’s not a local copy. I pulled some favors, got it on the pan-dimensional black market,” she replied.

“But still – should be the exact same text. Unless . . .” Wesley trailed off thoughtfully.

“Unless, what?” Lilah prompted.

“We’d have to check more books from other dimensions to be sure, but what if there were other references to the Beast that had somehow been removed. What would something so powerful feel the need to hide?” Wesley contemplated.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Gunn, Cordelia, Spike and Fred were in the basement guarding Angelus who still lay unconscious in the cage.

“Lilah or not, something is doing the Beast’s dirty work,” Gunn said, the tranquilizer gun relaxed at his side.

“It would explain how giant lava boy could tiptoe past us to take out Manny,” Cordelia observed.

“And butcher the Svea priestesses,” Spike added.

“Even though Lilah’s evil, I don’t see her hacking up all those people,” Fred denied, shuddering at the thought.

“Okay, so maybe it’s not just her,” Gunn conceded. “Maybe . . . maybe the big bad Beast had minions doing his dirty work.”

Angelus woke up at the tail end of Gunn’s comment. “Morons.”

The group looked over at the sound of Angelus’s voice. “Comments from the peanut gallery, mate?” Spike asked.

“The big rock _doesn’t_ have minions.” Angelus tried to sit up. “It _is_ the minion.”

“No, it’s not,” Fred objected. “We’ve seen what it can do.”

“You’ve just seen the warm-up act,” Angelus countered.

“If you have something to share, don’t keep us in suspense,” Spike glared at his Sire.

“There’s something bigger, something worse. The Beast has a boss,” Angelus revealed.

“Worse than the Beast?” Gunn wondered out loud.

“That—that’s not possible,” Cordelia denied.

Angelus looked at them from his spot inside the cage. “How did you all survive this long being so retarded?”

“Stop with the bloody riddles and tell us what you know,” Spike demanded, agitated.

Angelus snarled at Spike. Spike growled back at his Sire. “The Beast I knew was big into smash and slaughter, and had the brawn to be really good at it too. Big picture, though – not his strong point. But whoa! Flash forward, and now he’s all rain of fire, destroying the Ra-tet, blotting out the sun. Big moves for a guy whose head is made out of rock.”

“Maybe he got smarter,” Cordelia snapped.

“And maybe I’ll sprout some wings and flutter away. There’s something else out there – more powerful, more vicious – pulling the strings. I don't know about you, but I’m just dying to find out what it is.” He gave a sarcastic shiver and smirked. "I've got goose bumps."

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Wesley and Lilah walked through the front door to find Fred and Cordelia watching the monitor.

“What, no cake?” Lilah asked sardonically when no one greeted her. Not that she was expecting a welcome reminiscent of **_Cheers_**.

Fred turned on her. “Where is it?”

Lilah gave her a blank look. “Where is what?”

“Angel’s soul,” Cordelia clarified.

“Oh, that what,” Lilah said disinterestedly.

“She didn’t take it,” Wesley answered for her.

“How do you know?” Spike asked as he came out of the kitchen with a glass of blood for himself.

“Because she told me,” Wesley replied.

“And you believed her?” Gunn asked as he came out of the office. “Lying is in her job description.”

Lilah glanced at Wesley. “He’s got a point.” She opened her coat and turned around, inadvertently revealing her wound to the others. “You want to search me?”

“What happened to you?” Cordelia asked observing the wound in the model’s pivot.

“She was injured in the attack on Wolfram & Hart,” Wesley replied.

“How’d she make it out?” Gunn asked.

Lilah descended down the steps and slowly moved to sit on a couch. “Got lucky.”

“Maybe it was more than that,” Cordelia said as she walked up to Lilah. “What were you doing downstairs with Angelus?”

“She was gathering intel,” Wesley replied.

“With a crowbar?” Gunn asked skeptically. “She’s the only one to make it out of Wolfram & Hart alive and then she shows up right after Angel’s soul goes missing.”

Wesley turned and glared at Gunn. “I’ve already told you, she didn’t have anything to do with that!”

“Maybe she knows who did,” Spike said.

“Or who’s controlling the Beast,” Fred added glaring at Lilah.

“Controlling?” Lilah asked, mystified.

“Angelus thinks rock-boy’s just the muscle,” Gunn filled in. “Not that I trust him any more than I trust you.”

When Wesley looked as perplexed as Lilah, Cordelia explained, “Everything that’s happened – it’s part of a bigger plan with something even worse than the Beast sketching the blueprints.”

A light bulb went off in Wesley’s head. “That’s what he’s been trying to hide. There might be something in the text we –”

“Text?” Cordelia cut in.

Wesley held up a book. “Lilah found a passage in **_Rhinehardt’s Compendium_**.”

“But we searched that already. There’s nothing there,” Fred said.

“Because all references to the Beast were erased in this dimension,” Wesley explained.

“I got my copy of **_Rhinehardt’s_** . . . _way_ out of town.” Lilah gave Fred a smirk that could almost be labeled a sneer. “I’m surprised you didn’t think of that.”

“That’s why Angel didn’t remember the Beast,” Gunn surmised.

“His memory’s been wiped clean, just like the books,” Wesley observed.

“So why does Angelus remember?” Fred asked.

“Because, like with our mating claim, Angelus wasn’t here when it happened,” Spike replied.

Wesley walked up to Fred, book still in hand. “We should compare this passage with the information Wolfram & Hart extracted from Lorne. There might be –”

Grabbing the flamethrower, Gunn cut in, “Yeah, have fun with that.” He headed for the basement door.

“Charles . . .” Fred started to say.

“Somebody needs to be downstairs, make sure nobody else tries to intel our boy,” Gunn commented as he spared a glance at Lilah before going downstairs, slamming the door shut behind him.

Spike glanced up from a book he was idly reading while drinking his blood. He watched the scene play out with little interest and went back to his book. Something had shifted between Fred and Gunn, he was sure of that, but, it didn’t affect him directly so he couldn’t be bothered to get in the middle of it. As long as Gunn wasn’t hitting Fred, he’d mind his own business. He had enough going on anyway with Angel’s soul being MIA and his sadistic Sire in a cage downstairs. That thought only brought a miniscule of worry, however fleeting, about Gunn’s safety in the basement with only a tranquilizer gun for protection.

Fred started to follow him, but Cordelia stopped her. “Let him go. I know this is hard, we’re all tired and hurting, but we have to stay focused. We need to figure out what’s coming and how to get Angel back before it does. Because if this is as bad as my visions have shown me, we’ll need him more than ever.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Angelus stood in the middle of the cage. The tip of the flamethrower was lit and pointed at Angelus as Gunn sat off to the side, not looking at him.

“You know what I like about you?” Angelus asked. “You play to your strengths. You know what they are, and you stick to ’em. You don’t find that much these days, with everybody always trying to _expand their horizons_ , _actuate their potential_ , and all that other self-improvement crap – like Spike. But not you. You don’t try to change . . . because you know your place.” Gunn glanced at Angelus then away, unwilling to admit by word or action that his observation struck a nerve. “That’ll go a long way towards keeping you alive. Well, a lot longer than the others. Man, you guys really are on a streak. You let L.A. nearly burn to the ground, lost the sun, let the creepy-crawlies practically take over the city, but you know _that’s okay_. At least you’ve got the love of a good woman -- until she dumps you for a guy with a bigger _horizon_.”

Gunn looked down. “It’s her life.”

Angelus walked up to the bars, Gunn’s depressed look never escaping his purview. “Oh, wait – did I miss it? Did she already let you down easy?” Gunn looked up at Angelus, something in his eyes confirming what dark vampire suspected. “Cheer up, mate. It's not like we didn’t see it coming, especially after what happened to her old professor.” Gunn looked at Angelus, wide-eyed. “Come on, even Angel’s not that stupid. The way things changed between you two . . . the furtive looks, all that guilt. Mmm. There’s nothing like your first murder, but don't fret, I won’t tell what our little girl did.”

Gunn stepped forward thinking Angelus was going to rub in the knowledge that Angel and Fred slept together, but then he objected to Fred’s role in the death of Professor Seidel. “She didn’t –”

“Yes!” Angelus clapped his hands. “So, it _was_ you – stepping up and being the man!”

“I did what I had to do,” Gunn defended his actions.

Angelus paced back and forth on the other side of the bars. “I guess Fred didn’t quite see it that way, huh? Wow. You do a chick a favor, you think she’d be grateful, but no. She still falls for the broody smart guy so they can share all of that mystery and torture. I guess, when you think about it, for the first time in your life, you just weren’t _dark_ enough.” Gunn took exception to that comment and fired the flamethrower at Angelus. The vampire dodged it, laughing quietly. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all, Chuck.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_   
**

Wesley and Fred were sitting on opposite sides of the desk, researching.

“This is hopeless. The Orb of Thesulah is the only way I can find to restore Angel’s soul, but that only works if it’s moved on to an afterlife or something, not floating in a jar somewhere,” Fred whined as she closed the book and placed it on the desk in front of Wesley.

Wesley stood up. “We’ll find a way to bring back Angel.”

“How?” she asked cynically.

“The way we always do; skill, perseverance, and luck,” Wesley replied.

Fred scoffed. “Not a lot of that going around.”

“We’ll be fine,” Wesley assured her. He sighed. “Fred, what happened between me and Gunn – I didn’t mean – That’s not what I wanted. Could you tell him that?”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of how things ended between her and Gunn in a split second in the middle of an apocalypse. “I don’t think he’ll listen. We’re not –” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh,” Wesley tried to sound more concerned than hopeful. “It’s not because of what I did?”

Fred shook her head. “Things just haven’t been right for a while.”

Wesley walked around to her. “I think this is the part where I’m supposed to say I’m sorry, and I’m really trying to be, but –” He broke off when Lilah and Cordelia came into the room.

“Any progress?” Lilah asked leaving the double entendre out there.

“Not really,” Fred replied.

“Pity,” Lilah smirked at Wesley.

Wesley cleared his throat. “I made some headway in cross-referencing, but there’s no telling how long it’ll take to get anything definitive.”

“But you have made _some_ progress?” Cordelia asked anxiously.

Lilah looked between Wesley’s averting eyes and flush-faced Fred. “Sure looks like he’s doing his best.”

“I’ll relieve Gunn, see if I can get anything else out of Angelus,” Wesley said. He squeezed between Lilah and Cordelia as he left the room, like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

When he passed Spike, the blonde vampire reminded him, “Stay clear of the cage, Percy. He’s down there with no blood and he has a thing for handsome, scruffy types.”

“Then why’d he choose you?” Wesley asked as he continued on to the basement.

“I was the exception, he couldn’t resist my blonde curls,” Spike called out.

Lilah watched Wesley disappear into the basement and turned to Cordelia. “So, what now? Ouija board?”

Fred glared at Lilah, then looked past her into the lobby. “Lorne.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Lorne walked through the front door as Fred ran out of the office to meet him. Spike had given up on his book and waited for the empathic demon to make his way to the desk.

“Did you find out anything?” Fred asked.

“Zip. Zilch,” Lorne stopped when he noticed Lilah. “What in the hell is succu-bitch doing here?”

Cordelia spared a withering glance at Lilah. “Still trying to figure that out.” Turning back to Lorne she inquired, “So, nothing?”

“I’ve talked to every contact that hasn’t beat feet for higher ground. Nobody’s heard Bo-peep about Angel’s soul.”

“Forget about Angel!” Lilah demanded in aggravation.

Spike turned and looked at her over his shoulder. “I don’t think I can since I’ve been mated to the ponce for the past few years. If you don’t have anything constructive to add, then I say you keep your bloody mouth shut.”

Lilah glared at Spike and went on. “You want to kill the Beast and give his boss a run for his evil? The answer is downstairs locked in a cage – sic Angelus on him.”

“Do you know what Angelus would do if we let him out?” Cordelia asked.

Lilah looked at her innocently and replied, “Kill you all in a bloody show of gory violence, but hey –” she put her hands together in prayer. “Greater good.”

Gunn appeared from the basement as Spike crossed his arms, looking at Lilah. “If he’s killing you along with the lot, I’ll help him, soul or no soul.” Cordelia glared at Spike for even suggesting helping out in a massacre. “Wot? You think I suddenly turned into a white-hat when I got my soul? I wasn’t cursed with mine like Angel was with his.”

“We’ll find another way,” Cordelia stressed. “I’m sure if we just all –”

“What?” Lilah cut in. “Hold hands and sing _Kumbaya_? It might be a trifle difficult to focus on the lyrics while the Beast is ripping out _your_ guts.” She stalked away and upstairs to the second floor. She needed to find a room in which to lie down and rest. Her injured side was killing her. She hoped, not literally.

“Lilah, I know things look grim right now,” Cordelia called after her.

Without turning around, Lilah said, “Don’t go Watchtower on me, Saint Cordelia. I don’t think I could stomach it.”

“Man, I’d love to punch in your face,” Cordelia groused.

Lilah turned around on the staircase and looked down at Cordelia. “Are you trying to turn me on?”

“What’s sad about people like you, Lilah – it all comes down to fear,” Cordelia observed.

“Fascinating,” Lilah commented disinterestedly. Now that we’ve got that settled.” She continued up the stairs.

Cordelia went on as if Lilah hadn't dismissed her. “You’re too scared to believe in anything because you’re too scared to hope. You won’t even open your eyes to the possibility.”

Lilah laughed under her breath as she faced Cordelia again. “You don’t get it, do you, Twinkie? _I’m_ what I believe in. Do you think I got this far by sticking my head in the sand? The Beast that eviscerated me has a boss, and that boss is going to end life as we know it, and nobody is coming to save us! Not Angel, not the Powers That Be, and not the Forty-damn-Second Cavalry!” Cordelia’s head snapped back as a vision overtook her. “So if anybody has scales on the rise –” Cordelia looked at her with her eyes rolled back in her head, the lids open to reveal the eerie whites. “It’s you.”

Cordelia smiled. “I can bring him back. I know how to re-ensoul Angel.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Fred cautiously made her way downstairs to retrieve Wesley, who was standing guard over Angelus.

Angelus took note of her. “Hey, we were just talking about you. I was, anyway.”

Wesley turned to Fred. “What is it?”

Fred glanced nervously at Angelus then focused on Wesley. “Cordelia had a vision. She knows how to put back his soul.”

Angelus chuckled evilly. “I guess the Powers saw how bad you guys suck.”

“We're doing better than you!” Fred shot back.

Wesley put his hand on her arm. “Fred . . .”

“Ooh, she really has put on spunk, hasn’t she, Wes?” Angelus leered. “Not the same, shy, bitch-cow we pulled out of Pylea.”

Fred crossed her arms and glared openly at Angelus. “There’s only one bitch here, and I’m looking at him.”

“Oh, come on, we all know it’s for the best. Now you can go for the real prize.” Angelus stepped closer to the bars of his cage, eyeing Wesley lustfully. “Mm. Man, I’m telling ya, if I wasn’t mated to Spike right now . . . Look at him –” Angelus gave Wesley a wolf-whistle. “All rugged, and handsome, and brainy . . . . man, he’s damn-near perfect.”

Wesley couldn’t help preening at the compliment. “Thank you.”

Wesley and Fred headed for the stairs when Angelus stopped them. “Except for the part about fucking Lilah for the past six months.” Wesley looked at Fred who turned to look at Angelus and then back at Wesley. “That kinda takes the shine off him.”

Fred laughed nervously, but Wesley looked guilty.

“Fred . . .” he started to explain.

“No, it – it’s none of my business. I should . . .” she trailed off as she hurried up the stairs, Angelus’ evil, mocking laughter pursuing her.

**************************

**  
_Cemetery_   
**

Gunn and Spike were digging up a grave.

Spike elected to go with Gunn, anything to get out of the hotel and away from the soap opera unfolding there. One more minute in Lilah’s presence, with all three women sniping at each other, and he was going to rip out their throats, soul be damned. And he smirked at the pun.

“Are you sure this is the right place, mate?” Spike asked.

“Well, the landmarks look like what Cordelia described in her vision.”

“Been a while since I’ve come up against a soul-eater,” Spike admitted, shrugging. “But I was soulless back then.”

“Hmph,” Gunn grunted. “I’m not planning to go up against him. Cordy said this thing was buried by the Chumash a couple hundred years ago. I don’t expect it to put up much of a fight. The skull of the soul-eater is the main piece of the spell Cordy saw. Without that –” Gunn’s shovel hit something metallic. “Ooh, thank you, Powers That Be! About damn time. Help me out here, man.”

After they’d cleared much of the dirt off the top, Gunn climbed down into the hole to unlock the box.

“Want me to do that?” Spike asked idly.

“Uh, I got it,” Gunn said as he opened the lid.

Suddenly, a hand reached up, out of the box, grabbing Gunn by the throat. Spike stabbed the creature with Angel’s broadsword, causing the creature to release Gunn. Quickly, Spike yanked Gunn out of the hole.

“You okay?” Spike asked.

Gunn bent over, panting, “Oh, I so don’t need that kind of shit. Let’s just chop off its head and get –” He looked down and saw that the creature was gone. “Okay, this thing is really starting to piss me off.”

“I suppose I should have mentioned that they're lightning fast and can appear and disappear in an instant,” Spike remarked as he looked around, alert for any sign of disturbance near them.

It appeared behind Gunn, who punched it. Spike joined in, but the soul-eater knocked him down. Every time Gunn or Spike tried to throw a punch at it, or swing a sword at it, the soul-eater vanished before they could make contact. When Spike engaged it in a fistfight, the soul-eater put its hand on his chest. Spike couldn’t move, instead he hung suspended in air.

“I don’t remember this happening the last time I came across one,” Spike growled at the tearing sensation in his chest as if the soul-eater was ripping out his soul through his ribcage.

The soul-eater’s hand started to glow a chartreuse color on Spike’s chest and Spike’s growl turned into a roar of pain. Gunn ran up to them and cut off the soul-eater’s arm with his sword. Spike fell to the ground and the light that was emerging returned to his body. Spike panted as he threw away the arm in disgust. Gunn continued to hack away until the soul-eater’s head separated from his body. The head started writhing and twitching on the ground in front of Gunn. He continued to hit it several more times with his sword until it ceased movement.

Spike stood up and moved to stand beside Gunn, looking down at the mutilated corpse. “Nice work, Charlie.”

“Yeah,” Gunn said airily. “Sometimes you just gotta keep whacking.” He picked up the head. As they walked away from the open grave, Gunn pointed out, “Your fighting skills are getting a little rusty, bro’.”

“We’ll talk about how rusty someone’s fighting skills are when some big bad is ripping _your_ soul out of _your_ body, mate,” Spike countered.

**************************

**  
_A Cave Under the City of Los Angeles_   
**

In a triangular-shaped room, dimly lit by two torches, the Beast knelt in prayer.

“I am honored you’ve come. Fire, death, and darkness have I bestowed in your name.” He raised a knife in offering. “Now, this humble token I offer, forged of my unworthy bones. A tribute to your power.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

Cordelia and Fred walked into the lobby carrying mystical items. Wesley and Lorne were sitting at the reception desk preparing items of their own.

“Seven talismans built to specs,” Cordelia announced.

“Sometimes I hate my life,” Fred commented with a sickened expression on her face.

Cordelia nodded in agreement. “Dumpster diving for week-old buffalo wings was definitely _not_ in my job description.”

Fred held up a magical item. “Try de-clawing scavenged road kill for three sacred talons.”

Cordelia sighed. “Never do I have the happy, frolicking puppy visions. Always bones and death and . . .”

Spike and Gunn walked through the front door. “We got the skull of the soul-eater,” Spike announced as he set it on the desk in front Cordelia.

“I’m just saying . . .” Cordelia trailed off.

Glancing at it, Wesley observed, “It looks rather fresh.”

“Yeah, we moved up its expiration date,” Gunn said as he and Spike snickered together.

“Cordy?” Wesley prompted.

Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment. “I just see the skull. It doesn’t have any . . .” she shuddered at the decapitated head. “You know . . . skin related parts.”

“Right,” Wesley acknowledged. “Take it to the kitchen and remove the flesh and soft tissues.”

Gunn and Spike took the skull and left the room, Cordelia following behind them.

Lilah walked down the stairs into the lobby, fresh from her nap. “It’s just like being at work, except for the suit by Liberace.”

Lorne pointedly glared at Wesley. “Wesley, would you please warn this walking infection that I haven’t forgotten how she poked my head open like a Capri-Sun. And while my love for humanity allows me to tolerate her presence, if need be I will bitch slap her!” He gave Wesley a faux smile. “Be a doll. Thanks.” He rose and went into the kitchen.

Without looking up, Wesley said, “With all the excitement, I thought you would have escaped by now.”

“Well, I would have, but, um,” Lilah looked at her watch. “It’s Thursday, which means that everyone who should be in the weekly briefing is, oh, _dead_.”

Wesley looked over at her. “So, you have nowhere else to go?”

“Just waiting to prove that your Powers That Be are all hat and no cattle. And if they do pull it through, well then braid my hair, and call me Pollyanna.” Lilah smiled. “The upside of being in it for yourself, Wes – you always end up on the winning team.”

“Wesley . . .” Fred started to say. When he and Lilah looked at her, she faltered, feeling uncomfortable around Wesley with Lilah there. “Cordy had a question.” With that Fred quickly left the room.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

The group was setting up a magical circle on the floor in front of Angelus’s cage while he looked on, seeming amused by their efforts. The skull was at the center, while twigs were arranged in the shape of a circle around it. White candles were lit on the perimeter.

“Have you all lost your minds? You’re going to use _black_ magic to restore my soul? People, this never goes well. Am I the _only_ one paying attention? Spike! Tell me you did _not_ buy into this. I know you have a soul and all, but you _cannot_ be this dense!”

“Last hope of a desperate man, Angelus. It may or may not work, but what is there left to lose?” Spike asked.

“How about your Sire!” Angelus shot back.

Lilah looked around and smiled. “Ten-to-one, the entire hotel gets sucked into a hell dimension.”

“Will you two – shut the hell up,” Gunn yelled.

“Talk about eleventh-hour desperation,” Angelus continued. “Face it, you’re grasping at prayer sticks. No jar, no soul, can't we all just get along?”

“Beginning to sound pretty desperate yourself, Angelus,” Spike remarked.

“Do you have the vial?” Cordelia asked, ignoring Angelus’s taunts. Wesley handed her a vial.

“Let’s be realistic,” Angelus reasoned. “Even if your champion makes another guest appearance, you can’t stop this apocalypse. Bottom line is: you’re going to lose. The last thing you smell will be each other’s blood.”

Cordelia poured the contents of the vial onto the skull.

“That’s your opinion,” Fred said defensively.

“You tell him, honey,” Lilah smirked.

“You, shut your fat mouth,” Fred snapped at Lilah.

Angelus chuckled at the drama unfolding before him. “Look at you – heroes. So tangled up in your own crap, you can’t even find the world to save it!”

“Does everyone have their talismans?” Cordelia asked. Everyone held up a talisman.

“Hell, even Angel knew you never stood a chance. You want to know why he really let me out? Because he gave up. He knew you were all too weak and too selfish to stop what’s coming. He gave up his soul because he gave up on _you_!”

Cordelia gestured with her hand and sent Angelus flying to the back wall of his cage.

“In degera . . .” Wesley started chanting.

Angelus struggled to stand. “Don’t kid yourselves.”

“Fortis murus . . .” Wesley chanted. The candle flames suddenly grew larger and brighter.

Angelus growled, “I’ll be around long after your corpses rot.”

“Kesta sartuum . . .” Wesley chanted. The building shook and everyone looked around. “Mundi ethericon . . .”

White smoke emanated from the skull and purposefully floated toward Angelus.

Angelus growled and backed away from the smoke. “I promise you. This isn’t . . .”

“Chimera nihilo,” Wesley finished.

“The end,” Angelus growled.

The smoke surrounded Angelus’ body, lifting him off the ground. He writhed and screamed in pain. The skull inside the magical circle exploded, the smoke disappeared, and Angelus fell to the ground in a heap.

Cordelia took a step closer to the cage. “Angel?”

Angel lay on the ground looking up at the group. “I’m so sorry.”

Lorne smiled in surprise. “It worked.”

Spike looked skeptical as he watched his Sire sit up. Angelus was known to use fake-outs before.

“Fred,” Angel said.

“What?” Fred asked shortly.

“You—you came down the stairs. You had blood, and I grabbed you.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“The spell, it worked. I feel it,” Cordelia said happily.

“We have to be sure,” Wesley said. He was as suspicious as Spike.

“Get Lorne to read him,” Gunn suggested.

“Angel, are you aware of what’s happened?” Wesley asked cautiously.

Angel stood up. “I’m back. There’s, uh, something worse – worse than the –”

“The Beast,” Wesley finished. “Yes, and we need your help to fight it, but first you have to sing for Lorne –”

“I, uh . . .” Angel started to object to singing. Didn’t they remember he had an awful singing voice?

“To prove it’s really you,” Wesley said.

“Oh, right,” Angel cleared his throat and began to sing, “ _Raindrops keep falling on my head . . . do, do, do, do . . . Just . . ._ ”

A big smile broke out on Lorne’s face, “Oh, yes, _yes_! Sweet fancy B. J. Thomas, it’s him. It’s Angel.”

“Are you sure?” Gunn asked skeptically.

“Yes, yes! The aura has totally changed, and the vibe screams soul man! Ha Ha! Oh, bless you and your beautiful land line to the PtB, honey!” Lorne exclaimed excitedly as he swept Cordelia up in a hug and kissed her cheek.

Spike wasn’t so sure about it. He never trusted magic to begin with. There were always consequences to using magic of any kind, Angelus told him that. He remembered Buffy telling him once how disoriented Angel was when Willow put his soul back before she had to stab him with the sword. He didn’t remember right off what he’d done. According to Buffy, he acted like he hadn’t seen her in months. Something wasn’t right with this spell of Cordelia’s. He looked into Angel’s eyes and saw a soul reflected back, but it felt -- different.

“So, we can let him out?” Fred asked.

“No!” Angel said. “I’m staying in here. I’m doing what’s best for the group.”

“Since when is locking up the leader what’s best for the group?” Cordelia asked perplexed.

“Since when does your vision come with a guarantee?” Angel countered. “For all we know, this spell is only temporary. And God forbid . . .” He shook his head negatively. “I can give you orders from in here, and the new ones are: no more back-biting, fist-fighting, fraternizing, or vengeance. From now on, you focus on one thing: making it out alive. ’Cause I’m only going to say this once: what Angelus told you was a lie. I haven’t, and will never, give up on you. We’ll get through this thing – together.”

Spike’s brow furrowed. It sounded like one of Angel’s pep talks, but it lacked the power Angel would have infused in it.

“I can’t believe we didn’t crush you people years ago,” Lilah remarked, amused.

“Wes, you and Fred get to Lilah’s books. We need any new information you can dig up on this new player. Lilah,” Angel looked at her patronizingly, “Make some coffee. Earn your keep around here.” Wesley, Fred and Lilah went upstairs. “Lorne, I want you out working low-pro real estate. If this thing _is_ bigger than the Beast, it’s gonna be laying down roots. And it’ll need square footage.”

Lorne grinned at the order. “Good to have you back, boss!” With that he fairly tap-danced upstairs.

"In the meantime, Spike, I want you and Gunn to work damage control. Sweep the surrounding area for civilians and save who you can.” When Spike still eyed him curiously, he said, “Will, it’s me, baby boy. I’m back.”

Spike nodded then followed Gunn upstairs leaving Cordelia standing there.

“Cordy . . .” Angel started to say.

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything yet,” Angel said.

“True, but I thought I should tell you up front that I don’t take orders from guys too scared to step out of their cages,” Cordelia informed him.

“I made the right call,” Angel defended. “This way, everybody stays safe.”

“And you have the security blanket of not having to look anyone in the eyes,” Cordelia pointed out. “Bonus.”

Angel sighed. “I hate that you saw me like that.”

“You’re not him. You think we don’t get that, but we do,” Cordelia assured him.

“What if – wh-what if the spell doesn’t last?” Angel asked uncertainly.

“The Powers need a champion, Angel. And obviously they need one pretty bad the way things are going. Who knows, you might even be their only hope, Obi-Wan.”

Angel gave her an uneasy smile. “So, how do I go up there?”

“Easy. Leave _him_ and what _he_ did inside that cage,” Cordelia said as she unlocked the cage and opened the door. Angel stepped out and she dropped the key in her pocket. “You’re _not_ Angelus.”

Grabbing her hand and violently pulling her against him, Angelus’ face shifted to his demon visage and he grinned. “Guess again!”

Cordelia kneed Angelus in the groin, punched him in the face, and shut herself inside the cage, holding onto the bars. Angelus reached in, grabbing her and pulling her head forward, knocking it solidly against the bars. Cordelia collapsed on the floor of the cell, unconscious.

Angelus trotted up the stairs, letting his demon fade away, smiling.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_   
**

Fred was working in the office when Angelus walked up behind her, still impersonating his ensouled counterpart. Fred turned and sucked in a quick breath of surprise.

“Sorry if I scared you,” Angelus apologized.

“Angel . . . I thought –” Fred started say.

“Cordy let me out,” Angelus said by way of explanation. “Actually, I—I asked her to let me out. You know what? Never mind.”

Angelus turned to leave, but Fred stopped him. “No, wait. I’m the one who’s sorry. After everything you’ve been through, I . . .”

Angelus turned to face her. “It has been a little rough.”

“On all of us,” Fred agreed. “The stress is–”

“I know I could use a drink,” Angelus interrupted, measuring her reaction. Fred looked at him, wide-eyed and frozen. “Now, you see? That’s exactly what I was afraid of. For the rest of your life, you’ll only see me as this evil thing.”

“You’re my friend, Angel. Past is past and done is done,” Fred told him.

Angelus smiled. “Thanks, Fred.” He casually shrugged. “Can I get a hug?”

They heard something crash in the lobby, and both turned to look in the direction of the sound. When Fred looked back for Angel, to ask what he thought might have caused the sound, he was gone.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

A pile of broken coffee mugs and napkins lay on the floor. Lilah stood behind them, guiltily, making excuses to Wesley. Spike and Gunn were standing in front of the weapons cabinet gearing up to go out and kill vampires.

“It’s my inner megalomaniac,” Lilah said defensively. “My instincts rebel at serving coffee. It's genetically beneath me.”

“Angel, I thought you were confined –” Wesley commented, surprised to see the vampire walk into the lobby from the office.

“Change in plans,” Angelus said as he quickly edged towards the front door. “Cordy actually talked me out of staying down there. Now, I’ve got my own mission.”

Spike cocked a scarred brow at that. “What mission would that be, Angel?”

“I have to save the world," Angelus melodramatically announced before whisking himself out the door, leaving everyone to stare in bewilderment after him.

Fred walked out of the office. “So, has anyone seen Cordy?”

Spike glanced at the monitor and saw Cordelia lying unconscious in Angelus’ cage.

“Bloody buggering hell,” Spike growled, tossing aside his weapon and dashing for the basement.

Gunn looked at him strangely then followed his gaze to the monitor. Seeing Cordelia crumpled in the cage, he grumbled, “Damn it!” before following Spike into the basement.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby, Fifteen Minutes Later_   
**

Gunn and Spike were doling out weapons from the cabinet.

“Spike’s on point. Three party follow-up. Me, Wes, and Fred in the truck.” Gunn issued orders before turning to the seer, “Cordy?”

Cordelia held a bag of ice to her throbbing head. “I don’t understand how the spell didn’t work.”

“Dead ex machina,” Lilah commented. “There’s a surprise.”

“Cordy,” Gunn prompted again.

“We’ll be fine,” Cordelia waved him off. “Go. He’ll want to feed – a _lot_.”

“I knew something like this was going to happen. I warned all of you about how bloody barmy this plan was,” Spike pointed out as he headed for the door.

“I think we’re all in agreement that capturing him isn’t an option anymore,” Wesley said.

“Angelus is on the loose ’cause we brought him into this world. It’s our job to take him out of it,” Gunn said.

Spike looked at Gunn and Wesley. “Take the shot, any shot you can get.”

“Now you’re playing my song,” Lilah said as she cocked her handgun.

“I don’t know if I—” Fred stammered as Gunn handed her a tranquilizer pistol.

“You will,” Gunn assured her.

“Let’s go, while I can still catch a fresh scent of him,” Spike said as he walked out the front door.

**************************

**  
_Streets of Los Angeles_   
**

Angelus roamed through the streets looking for food. It was similar to the Dresden bombing, everything that could burn was on fire, panic in the streets, dead bodies littered the streets.

“It’s like shooting fish in a barrel,” Angelus observed. “Where’s the fun in that?” He saw a little girl run out of a building and snatched her up only to discover she too was a vampire. He held up the girl, screaming at her, “What happened to pedestrians? _Human_ pedestrians!” He put down the girl, grumbling, “Is there no fast food left in Los Angeles?”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

“He let me think I was talking him into it,” Cordelia was saying.

“Those evil geniuses . . . they get you every time,” Lilah said with faux sympathy.

“The Beast, then Angelus, and now there’s something worse,” Cordelia groaned. “I thought the spell was –”

“Divine intervention?” Lilah finished. “Trust me, you have a better chance of winning the lottery six times in a row.” When Cordelia looked at her, Lilah explained, “I had the numbers run.”

“Just makes me question –” Cordelia started to say.

“What’s it all for, huh?” Angelus finished from the balcony of the second floor. “I'd be asking the same thing if I were about to die!”

Angelus performed a back breaking flip from the balcony to the main floor of the lobby. Lilah shot him with her gun until it was out of bullets, then she lobbed the empty weapon at his head – which he dodged. Cordelia fired a bolt at him with a crossbow, but Angelus caught the bolt out of the air.

“This time,” Angelus growled as he threw the bolt back at Cordelia and it plunged into her leg. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground. “You stay down!” Addressing Lilah, he said, “As for you, luscious thing.” He advanced on her. “I mean, you were going to let me out of that cage, so, let’s see – I’ll give you, what, a ten second start?” Lilah spun around and ran as fast as she could manage while still wounded. “Ten, nine . . . Now, there's a girl who takes advantage of her opportunities,” he remarked to Cordelia -- who shot another bolt at Angelus, missing. He turned to her, “Don’t be jealous, kitten. She’s just the warm-up. I’ll save the good stuff for you.” He followed after Lilah – at a leisurely pace, “Eight, seven . . .”

**************************

**  
_Streets of Los Angeles_   
**

Spike headed the search party with Wesley, Gunn, and Fred following him closely. Suddenly, the blonde vampire stopped in the middle of the street.

“His scent trail ends here,” Spike announced.

“It ends here?” Gunn asked confused. “Did somebody pick him up?”

“He would go to the place where he could wreak the most damage,” Wesley postulated.

“He doubled back to throw me off his scent,” Spike snarled as he ran back to the truck.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Stairwell of the Third Floor_   
**

Angelus wandered around the hotel, trailing Lilah’s scent, enjoying the pursuit.

“Lilah . . . oh, Lilah,” Angelus sing-songed.

She was a couple corridors ahead of him, hobbling along with a battle-axe in one hand. Angelus whistled as he followed the scent of her blood. She ducked into an alcove and waited until he passed her meager concealment then limped hastily on her way, but he seemed to jump out of the woodwork, startling her.

“Boo!” Angelus growled, knocking her to the floor. “Oh, Lilah, I had such high hopes for us. Your devious mind, my killer instincts. What a team we would have made.”

“Could still make,” Lilah bargained with him.

“Always were a closer,” Angelus noted approvingly. “Unfortunately, with the new big bad in town, you just don't look so tough anymore. And, I’m a winning team kind of a guy. Couple that with the recent people shortage – you know, you’re lucky I’m letting you yak this long!”

Angelus lunged at Lilah, but she put up her feet and vaulted him over her, into the stairwell behind her. Angelus tumbled down the stairs and Lilah shoved a cart into the stairwell, and it clattered noisily down to crash on top of him.

She hobbled away as fast as her wounded body would take her, but someone grabbed her by the throat, from out of one of the rooms she passed, pushing her forcefully into the doorjamb. She stared in surprise at an expressionless Cordelia.

“He’s going to kill us,” Lilah exclaimed breathlessly.

“I know,” Cordelia replied calmly before she stabbed Lilah in the neck with the twin-tined knife from the Beast’s offering. Lilah collapsed lifelessly on the floor. Looking down on her, Cordelia asked, “Why do you think I let him out? You stupid bitch.”

A ghost of a smile played on her lips as she walked away from Lilah’s dead body.


	11. Chapter 60-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 60-A: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 10)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Stairwell_   
**

_Angelus._

Angelus groaned when he heard the faint call of his name in his mind.

 _Angelus,_ he heard again, a little louder this time.

 _Spike?_ Angelus queried.

_Yeah, ponce. I’ve been trailing you around the hotel this whole time and then you sort of went off the grid. What happened to you?_

_Lilah._

_You let Lilah Morgan get the better of you? And here I was going to pitch in if you killed her, but if you’re getting rusty in your old age . . ._

_Go to hell, Spike_ , Angelus groused.

_You first, mate. Oh, wait. You already did go first – when another bint kicked your arse. Are you sure this isn't some kink?_

_When I get hold of you, William, I’m going to . . ._

_You’re gonna what? Shag me to death?_

_Ripping the flesh off your bones a strip at a time is a more entertaining notion_ , Angelus groaned again as he sat up and shook his head to clear it. He pushed the room service cart off of him with such force that it flew into the wall of the stairwell, denting and cracking the plaster.

_I thought you wanted to shag and drink me at the same time?_

_That too. Where are you anyway?_

_I’m around._

_I’ll deal with you later – after I track down that evil bitch._ Angelus heard Spike chuckle in his mind. _What the hell are you laughing at, boy?_

_The most evil vampire I know, the Scourge of Europe, thinks Lilah Morgan, a soddin’ solicitor, is an evil bitch. Bloody marvelous!_

_You are begging for a lashing._ All Angelus heard in response was Spike cackling in his mind.

“Sodding git,” Angelus grumbled aloud as he got to his feet and took the stairs two and three at a time. He followed Lilah’s scent, which was stronger now. He turned the corner, strolled down a corridor, and stopped upon reaching Lilah’s body lying on the floor. “Huh.” Rolling his eyes at the scene in front of him, he added, “Isn't this a bag of bastards. I wanted to kill her, damn it.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Hallway_   
**

Wesley and Gunn walked the hallways seeking Lilah. They rounded a corner and Gunn collided with Wesley, nearly knocking him down, when the former Watcher stopped dead in his tracks. “Lilah!”

Gunn looked over Wesley’s shoulder to see Angelus standing in the middle of the hallway, holding Lilah’s dead body in his arms, feeding from a gaping wound in her neck.

Angelus looked up, sensing the human eyes upon him. “Cheers, guys – this is _not_ what it looks like. Not exactly,” Angelus poorly attempted to explained his predicament just about the time Gunn hurled a battle-axe at him. The dark vampire dodged out of the way, the axe missing him by inches and embedding in the wall adjacent to him. “A little too tart for me, anyway. You know what I mean, Wes?” Angelus dropped Lilah’s body on the floor, gave them a mock salute and said, “Kill you later!”

With that, Angelus dashed in the opposite direction and leapt headlong out of the open window at the end of the hall. Gunn tried in vain to catch up to the vampire before he plunged out the window, leaving a shocked Wesley to stare numbly at Lilah’s body and her horrific neck wound.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Cordelia sat on a couch while Spike perched on the armrest beside her. Lorne and Fred were gathered there, waiting to tend to her wound once Spike had the arrow out.

"Count of three," the blonde vampire told her and Cordelia nodded, prepared to steel herself. "One—," and he ripped the arrow out of her leg.

Cordelia screamed with the searing pain.

The group looked up as Gunn came down the stairs, sans Wesley, asking, “She okay?”

“She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’ll live,” Spike replied.

"What the hell happened to _three_?" she demanded angrily.

"Wouldn't have helped," he assured her before he rose and tossed the arrow into the trash.

“Where’s Angelus?” Cordelia demanded of Gunn, seeking to distract herself.

“Gone. He killed Lilah,” Gunn informed them.

Everyone looked at him in shock.

“Oh, God,” Cordelia gasped.

Now that he had taken out the arrow, Spike followed Gunn upstairs to help Wesley with Lilah’s body. Fred moved into Spike’s vacated spot and bandaged Cordelia’s leg.

“It’s started,” Cordelia sighed before a subtle, evil grin crossed her lips. Lorne and Fred were too busy patching her up to notice.

A while later, Spike, Gunn and Wesley came down the stairs with Lilah’s body. Gunn rushed to spread out a plastic sheet and Wesley reverently laid her body on it. He and Gunn wrapped the plastic around her body while Spike stood guard, staring out of the window.

Looking down at Lilah, Wesley spoke up, breaking the somber silence. “I was reckless in thinking we could go after him. That allowed Angelus to double back on us, giving him the chance to –” He looked up at the others. “From now on, we all stay close.”

“And do what? If Angelus is coming back for us, we can’t just waiting for him to drop by. We need to do something; board up the windows, make it safe somehow.” Fred looked around to see if anyone agreed with her. “Don’t you think?”

“This is his lair. If he wants in, nothing’s going to stop him,” Spike said without looking away from the windows.

“The birth of a notion, kids,” Lorne said excitedly. “We use the sanctuary spell. That anti-demon-violence ward I used down at Caritas. It won’t keep Angelus from making a house call, but it should keep carnage down to a minimum.”

“That takes some doing, doesn’t it?” Gunn asked skeptically.

“I could put a call into the Furies,” Lorne suggested. “Maybe they could tech-support me through a quickie version, Ward Lite.”

“Isn’t magic how this all started in the first place, green jeans? Cordelia’s spell bollocksed up, and now he’s on the loose?” Spike pointed out.

“Cordy, why _didn’t_ it work?” Fred asked. “The spell to bring Angel’s soul back. Did we do something wrong?”

Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Gunn turned on Lorne accusingly. “How did you get so fooled, Lorne? Reading Angelus wrong like that. _You_ were so sure he was Angel.”

Lorne opened his mouth to object, but Cordelia beat him to it. “Don’t put this on him. _I’m_ the one who let Angelus out. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Fred interjected.

“I’ll tell you whose fault it is – the Powers That sit on their Be-hind sending us useless, cryptic messages –” Gunn said. He looked down at Lilah’s plastic-covered body. “Don’t you think we should destroy her?”

“What?” Wesley asked, shocked.

Gunn gestured at Lilah. “The body. She could have been Sired.”

“One, there wasn’t enough time. Two, the last thing Angelus would _want_ to do is Sire Lilah Morgan,” Spike pointed out.

Wesley stood. “True, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. We can’t take any chances.” He grabbed a battle-axe off the wall. “I’ll take care of it.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Demon Bar_   
**

Various vampires and demons were smoking and drinking in a country-western bar. Angelus sauntered in like he owned the place. He started pushing other demons around and questioning them about The Beast when two vampires who were playing pool noticed him.

The first vampire looked up from the pool table and patted his buddy’s arm to get his attention. “Hey. Hey. Isn’t that . . . ?”

The second vampire looked to see who he was pointing at and agreed, “Yeah.”

Angelus stepped into the center of the room. “That’s right, brothers and sisters. The rumors are true. Angel has left the building, and I am back.”

The crowd of demons clapped and shouts of ‘welcome back’ were heard.

Angelus gave a small bow and with a smirk, adding, “But hey, I’m no different than the next guy; I peel off my victims’ skin, one leg at a time.”

During his ‘back from the beyond’ speech, a blonde female vampire rushed up to him and plastered herself to his side. “Angelus! Remember me?”

Angelus gave her a withering glance and sighed. She looked familiar, and the vague memory he had of her was that she was as annoying back then as she was now. “Not really,” he lied.

She slapped his arm. “Oh, come on! A little town outside Tuscany, 1845, give or take.” When he still seemed clueless, she said excitedly, “Rosaria!”

Angelus remembered Tuscany in 1845, but his recollection of her was still hazy.

“Rosaria. Right,” Angelus acknowledged. He started to walk away from her, but she stopped him.

“Yeah. I flew in with some of my friends when we heard about the permanent midnight.” Angelus used her blathering as a distraction while he grabbed a pool cue from another vampire and hid it behind his back. “Hey, a bunch of us are gonna raid a pre-school later. You wanna join us?” Angelus broke the pool cue in half. “Have a little kiddie cockta—” Angelus staked Rosaria with the pool cue. She screamed and turned to dust.

Angelus sighed in relief now that the jabbering stopped and commented to himself, “Everybody wants a piece of you.” He waved away the dust from Rosaria and walked up to a demon at the bar. “I’m looking for the Beast. A guy over there told me you might know where he hangs his horns.”

An ugly, fat, fleshy demon turned around the face Angelus. His jowls sagged below his jaw line and he had numerous double chins. Furthermore, he had five conical horns of various sizes sticking out of his skull. He wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

“Whoa!” the demon said in awe. “You’re _him_. Talking to _me_. Not usually impressed by vampires, but this is such a—such an honor. Hey, could you sign a little something for my hell-spawn? Make it out to Ashley. She’s a beautiful little –” Angelus stabbed the demon in the hand with a pen. The demon writhed in pain. “Agh!”

Angelus grabbed the demon around what would technically be his neck. “Maybe some other time. Where is the Beast?”

“I-I don’t know, I swear!” the demon stammered, panicked.

One of the two vampires playing pool leaned against the table and spoke up. “I’ve seen him, the Beast, seen him a couple of times.” Angelus turned his attention on the vampire. “Near the buildings down by the wash.”

Angelus released his captive and moved closer to the scrawny vampire as he demanded, “Show me.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Wesley stood in front of a table on which Lilah’s plastic-wrapped body was stretched out. He unwrapped it just enough that he could see her face and grabbed his battle-axe with purpose. With his other hand, he tenderly brushed her hair out of her face. Then her eyes opened slowly as he gazed into her pale face.

_“Why so glum? It is kinda what you wanted, isn’t it? I mean, deep down,” Lilah gave him a teasing smile. “Me out of the picture – utterly, finally. You can’t get outer than this. It makes **your** life simpler, doesn’t it? Cleaner?”_

“I didn’t want this,” Wesley denied.

 _“Come on, what are you worried about, Wesley?”_ Lilah sat up on the far edge of the table, facing away from him. _“You hated yourself for being with me. Or maybe you just hated yourself for loving being with me.”_ Lilah laughed. _“Hey, semantics, right?”_ She stood up from the table and walked over to Wesley. _“In any case, we both know, sooner or later, it would come to a messy end. For one of us, anyway.”_ Lilah pulled him around to face her, tenderly touching his face and arms. _“So ease up on that furrowed brow. You’re free now. No longer encumbered with the secret shame of our relationship.”_

“It wasn’t a relationship,” Wesley adamantly contradicted her.

Lilah smirked at him. _“There’s a signed dollar bill in your wallet I think proves different. You knew how I felt.”_

“You don’t feel anything,” Wesley glared at her.

 _“The only true thing I ever –”_ Lilah started to say.

Wesley turned his back on Lilah’s apparition to look at her corpse on the table. “You didn’t love me. You couldn’t.”

Lilah stepped up beside him and gazed down at her corpse. _“We’ll never know now, will we?”_

Suddenly her specter disappeared leaving Wesley standing alone, looking at her body laid out on the table.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Underpass_   
**

The two vampires from the bar led Angelus down a dark street at a highway underpass.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is the place.” Addressing his buddy, he asked, “This is the place, right?”

“Hey man, you saw the thing. I didn’t,” the other vampire said.

“Where was the Beast headed?” Angelus asked. The two vampires annoyed him. How they got turned and didn’t end up as minions was beyond his understanding. They’d been acting like Heckle and Jeckle ever since they left the bar. It gave Angelus new incentive for staking unruly childer once they were newly risen. These two weren’t even a pale comparisons to the entertainment William afforded when first presented to him by Drusilla.

“Uh, I can’t remember,” the first vampire said, doing his best impression of one of the **_Three Stooges_**.

Angelus grabbed the vampire by the collar and yanked him closer, pulling the vampire off his feet, snarling, “Try remembering harder, Paco.”

“Okay, okay,” the vampire said hurriedly. “I was just trying to steer clear of the mammoth, all right? You know what I’m saying?”

“Listen to what **I’m** saying. I don’t have time to –” Angelus trailed off as something farther down the street caught his attention. He put down the vampire and walked away.

“Hey, hey man,” the vampire called after him. “You want us to come with or . . . uh, all right, we’ll just stay here and wait.” He punched his friend in the arm. “You made him nervous!”

“Me?” the second vampire squeaked in surprise.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Gunn and Fred raided the kitchen and hauled out all of the spices they could find. They put them on the reception desk in front of Lorne who was on the phone talking to the Furies – or trying to since the three girls finished each other’s sentences. Cordelia sat on one of the couches and Spike paced the entryway in front of the main doors.

“Mm-hmm,” Lorne was saying. “Yeah, okay. All right, well not so fast, girls. Yeah, one at a time. Yeah, okay.” Lorne grabbed a pen and hastily wrote down their instructions as fast as he could keep up with their lilting voices. “Violence restrained. Uh-huh. Go on.”

“That’s everything we could find,” Fred announced as she set the last of the spices down on the desk.

Lorne didn’t even bother to put the girls on hold. He took the phone away from his ear and covered the mouthpiece with his hand. Addressing Fred and Gunn, he relayed the Furies message, “They say we need bloodroot.”

“Bloodroot?” Gunn repeated thoughtfully. “Man, we just raided the spice rack in the kitchen. There ain’t no bloodroot in there.”

Lorne put the phone to his ear again. “Uh, you’ll have to eighty-six the bloodroot, ladies. Anything else we can – Well, yeah, I have, uh,” Lorne looked at the labels in front him. “Paprika, ginger, allspice, clove – Cloves? That’ll work? Oh, got it. Beautiful. Hey, as soon as FTD’s delivering in the city again, expect a “Thanks a Bunch” bouquet from me, girls. Ciao!” Lorne hung up with an excited, “Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“Looks like we got our home security spell,” Cordelia observed.

“Right you are, missy. As soon as we sprinkle burnt clove dust around the perimeter, light a few candles, chant a few choice phrases, we’ll be –”

Spike continued to pace the entryway. “You might want to get to it, instead of talking about it, Lorne. The sooner we get the spell in place, the sooner I can go out and find Angelus.”

“But Wesley said we shouldn’t go after him,” Fred reminded him.

“Yeah? Well, he ain’t my boss. My mate and Sire is out there doing who knows what to the populace. I’d rather be out there distracting him from slaughtering the city than staying here waiting for marching orders. I’m not Captain Cardboard. I never jumped on command. And where the bloody hell is Percy anyway?” Spike asked, ending his rant.

He knew Wesley and Lilah had a sexual relationship. They reeked of each other’s scent that could only come from prolonged sexual contact. Given that, Spike could understand mourning a loss. Maybe deep down, Wesley did love Lilah. He could give the former Watcher that too. If it were up to him, Spike would have just buried Lilah and been done with it. He’d had a glimpse at the twin puncture marks and could tell right off that Angelus had not killed her. His Sire would have just ripped her throat out. Spike reached up and caressed the scars on his neck that were left after Angel had taken a good chunk out of him while having sex on their vacation in Colorado last year. Now, there was an apocalypse going on that refused to be put on hold, but Wesley wanted to be on the safe side and decapitate Lilah. So, how long did it really take to come to terms with your lover’s death and cut off her head? 

“Boss or no, he’s right when he says we stay together ’til we know what we have to do,” Gunn said.

“Angel told me what I should do if he got out and things went bad. But I’m not going to kill him either. If I’m out there keeping him busy, it means he’s not making things worse while you all find the Beast,” Spike said.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? Angel’s soul is still out there somewhere. That means there’s still a chance of bringing him back,” Fred pointed out.

“And how many people have to die before you all find the Muo-Ping it’s in?” Spike asked. “I’ve been down this road before with the Slayer; back when Angelus wanted to end the world -- and damn near pulled it off. I’m all for maiming and killing like any other vampire, but as long as I’m in here and not out there, leveling the playing field . . .” Spike just shook his head and smacked his hands against the door frame as he stormed out of the hotel.

‘Spike, don’t! Come back! You can’t –” Cordelia half-heartedly tried to stop him, but the second she stood up the world tilted and she fainted and fell to the ground.

“Cordy!” Fred cried out.

“Get her to the couch,” Gunn ordered. He, Fred and Lorne carefully picked up Cordelia and moved her to a nearby chair.

After a while, Cordelia woke up. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Fred said.

“Oh. You mean like this?” Cordelia asked, and promptly fainted in the chair.

“All right,” Gunn said airily. “Let’s get her upstairs.”

Lorne and Gunn carried Cordelia upstairs to her room.

“Hopefully Spike finds Angelus soon,” Lorne said as he helped carry Cordelia. Sure, having Angelus _and_ Spike teamed up together was a bad thing, but with Spike having a soul now, maybe if he caught up with Angelus there might be a chance while they figured out a way to kill the Beast.

**************************

**  
_Stockton, California, Northern California Women’s Correctional Facility_   
**

Coils of barbed wire lined the top of the high chain-link fence. Armed guards positioned at rooftop sentry locations kept careful watch over the women inside the fence who played cards, basketball or worked out. A male guard stepped up to a control panel.

“Four-three-zero-zero-one-nine – Coming out,” the guard announced.

He pressed a button on the panel, the door buzzed open, and Faith walked out into the yard.

Faith gave the guard a nod of acknowledgement before making her way to the exercise equipment in the yard. Using her Slayer strength, she jumped up to the highest bar and used it to perform pull-ups with ease as she gazed away from the yard, through the fence.

A tough-looking woman wearing a bandana walked toward Faith, simultaneously reaching inside her shirt for the knife that was smuggled into the prison for her to use specifically against Faith. Before the woman could get a swing at Faith, the Slayer used her strength to propel her body around, kicking the woman in the face, knocking her down. Faith did a forward flip dismount from the bar, landing on her feet. The woman who attacked her lay on the ground trying to reach the knife, a wicked looking blade with a jewel-encrusted hilt.

Faith looked down at her, body poised for another attack. “Okay, you got my attention. What’s your beef, Deb?” She stepped back in a defensive position as Deb stood up, holding the knife threateningly at Faith. “You really ought to think twice,” Faith warned. Deb swung the knife at Faith, but Faith pushed her away. “Or not.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Deb said as she jabbed the knife at Faith, who punched Deb in the face, knocking her down. “I need the money!”

Faith grabbed a bell bar with a huge weight at either end, jabbing one end of it in Deb’s face, breaking the woman’s nose. Faith dropped the bell bar.

“For a nose job?” Faith asked.

A guard finally made it onto the scene to break up the fight.

Faith raised her hands immediately. “Hey, hey, self defense! She attacked me, Eddie.”

“Yeah, I saw the whole thing,” the guard said and then addressed his partner, “Take her to the infirmary.” The second guard helped Deb up and escorted her out of the yard as she held her nose.

“Wait, you saw?” Faith asked surprised they didn’t come sooner.

“Hey, it caught us by surprise,” the guard said. “I mean, who’d be crazy enough to try to take you out?” He picked up the knife and turned it over in his hands.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Wesley sat staring at Lilah’s corpse as her apparition talked to him from across the room.

_“I know what it is. The reason you’re having such a hard time with this. Why you’re taking so long – you know . . .” she made a cracking noise as she gestured across her throat with her hand. “The awful truth is: you couldn’t save me. And this is the exclamation point.”_

“I saved you from the Beast, for all the good it did,” Wesley pointed out sadly.

Lilah gave him a soft smile. _“Wesley, you know that’s not what I’m talking about. You couldn’t save me from **me**.”_

“Is that what you thought?” Wesley asked.

 _“Me?”_ Lilah laughed. _“Lover, I’m not even here. I’m just a figment in your devilishly handsome head. So, clearly, it’s what you thought. For all your supposed darkness, edge of the razor mystique,”_ she moved closer and whispered in his ear, _“there was always a small part of you that thought you could pull me back from the brink of my evil, evil ways. Help me find redemption.”_

“Redemption?” Wesley echoed.

Lilah stood behind his chair with her hands on his shoulders. _“Angel’s influence, I suppose. The whole not giving up on someone, no matter how far he – or she – has fallen. Oh, well. Too late for me.”_ Wesley stood up. _“Let’s just get it over with. That body’s not going to dismember itself, you know.”_

Wesley raised the battle-axe he’d been holding the whole time. “I’m sorry, Lilah.”

_“Oh, Wes, we don’t have that word in our vocabulary. Not people like you and –”_

Lilah’s voice suddenly cut off as Wesley swung the axe. When he pulled it back, the edge was covered in blood. He dropped the axe and leaned heavily on the table as he broke down in mournful tears.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Warehouse District_   
**

Angelus walked into an abandoned warehouse.

He chuckled evilly. “This is how you treat an old friend? Kill the chick I was chasing, then lure me here with the scent of her blood?” He eyed the blood-covered, twin-tined knife that Cordelia used to kill Lilah, sitting on a wooden crate.

The Beast walked out of the shadows, between the stacks of wooden crates. “We were _never_ friends, Angelus.”

“Oh, I know,” Angelus said airily. “But calling you a big dumb hunk of rock seemed a little on the nose.” When the Beast failed to see the humor, Angelus shrugged. “Come on . . . I’m teasing. It’s been . . . what, a couple of hundred years? You still want to kick my ass?”

“It’s true, I long to crush your skull, but I didn’t bring you here to fight. That wasn’t my instruction,” the Beast said.

Angelus raised a brow. “Your instruction?”

“My master has requested you,” the Beast said, ignoring his question.

“Your master,” Angelus repeated as he looked at the knife. “Nice workmanship. Did you make this in shop class for Daddy?” Angelus wandered over and picked up the knife.

“Don’t touch that,” the Beast warned, though to Angelus’s ears it lacked any threat.

Angelus laughed at him instead. “Sorry. I can see you put a lot of yourself into it.” He put down the knife. “So . . . the attack on Angel Investigations, rain of fire, blotting out the sun –”

“Stealing your soul,” the Beast added, “all designed by my master to bring forth and keep Angelus.”

Angelus chuckled. “Hell of a plan. Real ‘big picture’ thinking,” he made air quotes when he said ‘big picture’. “So, when can I meet the big brain behind my liberation?”

“In time. For now, you will take your orders through me,” the Beast said.

Angelus scoffed. He was the Scourge of Europe. He barely took orders from Darla back in the day, and she was his Sire – and smoking hot. He did _not_ take orders from anyone anymore, least of all a hulking creature made out of rock that was no better than a minion itself.

“Or, here’s a better idea: _no, I won’t_.” Angelus walked up to the Beast, unafraid of him, no matter that the Beast had five feet and hundreds of pounds on him. “Tell your boss that I’m grateful for the attention, it’s always nice to have a devoted fan. But, I don’t take grocery lists from the messenger boy.”

The Beast growled at him and angrily said, “I will teach you respect.”

“Look, you may have played those suckers at Angel, Inc., but I don’t like having my strings yanked, and I don’t like being kept in the dark . . .” Angelus smiled as a memory floated through his mind of Spike and a blindfold. “Figuratively, anyway,” he corrected himself. And if your boss was half as smart as he thinks he is, he knows I won’t take orders from a lackey.” The Beast glared at him. “What? You don’t like ‘ _lackey_ ’? Hmm. How about, uh, toady? Or lickspittle? Lickspittle’s nice. Oh, wait, I got it. Flunky! You’re just a big, stupid, butt-ugly,” the Beast lunged at Angelus who ducked. “Slow-moving _flunky_ ,” Angelus finished as the Beast took a swing at him and missed. “Ah, come on, Rocky. If that’s all you got, you better thrown in the towel and call it a night.” Angelus jumped up into the rafters with one swift move, then turned to the Beast. “When the Beastmaster’s ready to peek out from behind your skirt, have him give me a call.” Angelus pivoted and was out of the building in a matter of seconds.

Cordelia walked out from behind a stack of crates and stepped up to the Beast. There wasn’t even a limp in her step from Angelus hitting her with an arrow in the leg. “Well, you handled that brilliantly,” she said accusingly.

“He’s not to be trusted,” the Beast said.

Cordelia hit him in the torso. “What about you? Letting him bait you into a fight like that!” She started to pace in front him. “I haven’t spent all this time and energy so you can mess it all up with your petty jealousies. You _know_ Angelus is _crucial_ to my plan.”

“My apologies, master,” the Beast said contritely.

“You need patience,” Cordelia said as if he were a four-year-old child. “He’ll come around . . . when he sees what I have to offer. And, if he doesn’t, you can pull off his head and tear him to bits. Now . . . give mama some sugar.”

Cordelia reached up to the Beast’s neck and pulled his head down for a mouth-to-mouth kiss.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Demon Bar_   
**

Angelus nursed a glass of whiskey at the bar, when someone put down a pack of cigarettes on the bar in front of him. Angelus raised his eyebrows, turned to find Spike standing there. He nodded to the stool beside him. Spike took the stool and raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention, ordering a double. When it finally came, Spike took a swig, savoring it as the burn slid down his throat.

“So, does soulless Angelus still smoke?” Spike asked his scarred brow lifted in query.

Angelus grabbed the pack, took out a cigarette, and lit it with the Zippo lighter Angel always kept in his pocket. Damn Boy Scout was always prepared for anything, Angelus thought, scowling. He took a drag on the cigarette, letting the tar burn his lungs then blew it out in Spike’s face. “Took you long enough to catch up with me.”

“Well, it took that long to lose Angel’s pet humans,” Spike shot back.

“I can scent the soul inside you, William. You still have your hat in with them. Come to drag me back to the basement, keep locked away so the kiddies stay safe?” Angelus taunted.

“No,” Spike replied. “I know my Sire better than that. Nothing can hold you for long. I’m surprised Angel thought that cell in the basement could do the job.”

“Why are you here?” Angelus asked.

“I don’t know; permanent midnight, got a beastie on the loose we have no way of killing and a crisis that makes your Acathla days look like a Graceland tour. Bet you never thought to plunge Sunnydale into total darkness before sending the world to hell, eh Sire?”

Angelus gave Spike a sidelong glance. “Since when have you been for proper decorum, William? Calling me ‘Sire’ and none of those pansy-ass nicknames you’re so fond of calling Angel.”

“Not true,” Spike disagreed. “I’ve called you a megalomaniac and sadistic bastard lots of times.”

Angelus turned on his stool and leaned on the bar, giving Spike his full attention. “What are you up to, _Spike_?”

“I figured we find someplace and make good on all the promises we made to each other while you were in the cage,” Spike shrugged.


	12. Chapter 60-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

## 

_Chapter 60-B: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 10)_

After Angelus and Spike exchanged a heated look, it was a blur. One minute they were in a demon bar sharing a drink, the next they were checked into the Royal Viking Motel. Spike had his arms and legs wrapped around his Sire as they attacked each other with mouths full of fangs. Angelus pushed Spike’s back against the door as he blindly used the room key to open the door. Spike tightened his hold on Angelus as he used one hand to reach down and twist the knob. They nearly fell onto the floor when the door opened, losing the support at Spike’s back. They were still attached at the mouth when Angelus carried him inside and shut the door with a kick of his foot.

Angelus fell onto the bed with Spike. He tried to stand up, but Spike refused to release him completely. The strong, supple thighs had let him go, but Spike’s arms still imprisoned him. Angelus reached up and pushed Spike’s arms away from him then stood up and impatiently pulled off Spike’s coat and shirts. Spike grabbed him, dragging him down for a kiss before going to work at relieving Angelus of his coat and shirt. Once they were both stripped down to the waist, Spike pounced on him again, wrapping his arms and legs around his Sire.

Angelus broke the kiss and his lips moved to Spike’s neck, fangs grazing the pale flesh just enough to break the skin, but not bite into him. Spike nuzzled against Angelus’ neck and bit down, causing the dark vampire to growl in annoyance. Angelus grabbed him under the arms, tossing him onto the bed again. Spike bounced up in a seated position and reached for the fly of Angelus’ jeans, kissing, licking, and nipping any bare skin he could reach as he unfastened Angelus’ jeans. Pulling the flaps of material away, he traced a path down Angelus’ stomach, to the erect and bobbing shaft awaiting his attention, which he gave eagerly, running his tongue over the crown and shaft, causing Angelus’ head to fall back and growl rumbled deep in his chest.

“Watch the teeth, boyo,” Angelus warned when he felt a fang skim lightly along the length of his shaft. Spike let his demon recede to human visage and continued his ministrations.

Angelus returned to his human face by the time he pushed Spike away and knelt on the floor in front of Spike. Spike lay back and watched coyly through his heavy eyelashes as Angelus proceeded to divest him of his black jeans.

Where Spike had used his hands and tongue to pleasure his Sire, the elder vampire produced a small knife from out of nowhere, and Spike was too immersed in a deep fog of lust to care what dark design his Sire had in mind.

Spike closed his eyes and stilled as Angelus inflicted shallow cuts all over his stomach and chest. Angelus watched the blood well up in each incision he made then bent to ravenously lick it up. Each time the skin healed to a red mark, Angelus made another shallow cut and repeated the long, intent gaze, then the hungry consumption. It wasn't physical hunger that drove Angelus, tasting Spike’s blood, to him, was like getting a glimpse of home.

Time slowed and blurred for Spike. He had no idea how long it was before Angelus grew bored of cutting into his skin – wanting more. He opened his eyes to see Angelus toss the knife, now clean of blood, onto the bed. Then his lust-glazed gaze traveled to his Sire’s blood-stained mouth, and he licked his own lips reflexively.

Angelus crawled between his long legs and, with a gentleness uncharacteristic of the elder vampire, pushed his erection inside Spike's ass, causing the blonde vampire to growl and pant unnecessarily as the wide shaft stretched his tight hole. Spike had almost forgotten what it was like to have sex with Angelus. Knowing that this bit of tenderness was a rare display of affection, Spike savored the moment before the demon took control.

As if on cue, Angelus snarled and seized Spike’s mouth in a bruising kiss, his hips thrusting sharply, driving his cock deep into his lover's bowels, causing Spike to howl in pain at the sudden tearing of his anal cavity. Angelus didn’t give him time to adjust. His thrusts were hard and unrelenting. Spike clawed frantically at Angelus’ back and arms, trying to steel himself against the force of his Sire’s lunges. Spike snarled, instinctively trying to wriggle out from under his Sire’s greater bulk only to have Angelus clamp a powerful hand on his sharp hip, and inexorably drag him back into place. Spike growled savagely, his fangs dropping as he tried to fight back against Angelus' sexual aggression only to have his Sire’s demon snarl an admonishment before going in for the attack, burying his fangs deeply into Spike’s neck. Spike howled raggedly as Angelus fairly burrowed his fangs into the thick vein, drinking deeply of the crimson fluid he craved from this source, above all others. Spike’s fingernails rent deep trenches in Angelus’ back, driving him mad with the scent of his Sire's blood, so near, yet impossible to reach. When he felt Angelus drinking, swallowing great gulps, and drinking more, Spike relented and gave in to his demonic lust, cock erupting against Angelus' belly and screaming in release. It was impossible for him to deny Angelus’ mating claim, he would later try to rationalize his behavior.

Sexually spent, Spike blacked out.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Fred lit white candles as Lorne read off the incantation.

“Violence restrained, demons disarmed. For mortals within these walls, no harm. Protection and safety this charm doth endow to make this shelter a sanctuary now,” Lorne recited the words while doing his best imitation of Mickey Mouse from **_The Sorcerer’s Apprentice_**.

Everyone looked around, waiting for something to happen.

“That’s it?” Gunn asked sadly. To him it seemed like a lot of hoopla with little effect.

“Well, if we followed the recipe,” Lorne said as he scanned the instructions again and looked around the perimeter of the lobby confused. “There should be cake. A demon violence-free zone, cake.”

“I don’t know, Lorne. It doesn’t feel like anything’s different,” Fred said skeptically.

“I think we’ve pretty much concluded magic never works the way it’s supposed to. I mean, I would have –” Gunn was saying.

Lorne sneaked up behind Gunn swinging a candlestick at him, but a force field stopped him, tossing him backward against the reception desk.

Fred gave a surprised squeak of “Charles!” just as the spell kicked in.

When Gunn turned around at the sound of his name, Lorne laughed nervously, “See? It works. Oh, it also smarts like the dickens.” He leaned against the desk, grimacing in pain.

"You tried to brain me with that candlestick," Gunn accused his green comrade in arms.

Wesley finally emerged from the basement. Taking in the scene, he dryly observed, “Sanctuary spell’s working, I gather?”

“Yeah, like a charm!” Lorne said giving him a thumb’s up. “Literally.”

“Good,” Wesley nodded. “It’ll make this easier.”

Gunn faced him. “Make what easier?”

“Where’s Cordelia?” Wesley asked. “And Spike?”

“Cordelia’s upstairs, asleep. She still feels weak,” Fred told him. “Spike went out to distract Angelus . . . or so he said.”

“Make what easier?” Gunn repeated.

Wesley shrugged into his coat and loaded himself down with weapons. “We’re going to bring in Angelus, alive.”

“I thought you said ‘capturing him wasn’t an option’,” Gunn reiterated.

Wesley shrugged. “Changed my mind. If we get rid of Angelus, then what? We still have a Beast we don’t know how to kill. We know it’s working for something much worse, but we don’t know what _it_ is. We’re caught in the middle of maelstrom, and we can’t get out without our champion. We’re going to save Angel, and I know who we need to help us do it.”

**************************

**  
_Stockton, California, Northern California Women’s Correctional Facility, Day_   
**

Faith walked down a corridor of prison bars into a visiting room where other prisoners sat on one side of a wall of glass and visitors sat on the other, talking to each other. Faith sat in an empty chair wondering why the hell her lawyer suddenly wanted to see her. She was shocked to temporary immobility when she saw Wesley on the other side of the glass.

Slowly she picked up the receiver and said, “They told me my lawyer was here to see me. Are you my lawyer now, Wes?”

“Hello, Faith,” Wesley greeted. “How are you?”

“Still alive,” she replied, still staring at him in disbelief. “Never thought I’d live long enough to see you paying me a visit.”

“A lot’s happened,” Wesley said.

“Whatever it is suits you. I mean, you’re looking,” Faith looked him up and down appreciatively. It’d been a long time since she’d been laid and the scruffy beard look on Wesley was working on her neglected libido, “good.”

Wesley rolled his eyes. Between Angelus’s admiration of him and now Faith’s, the compliments were getting embarrassing. “Do you know what’s going on in L.A.?”

Faith shrugged. “Seen the news, sure. Never-ending night, rain of fire. Team Angel must really have their hands full.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Wesley admitted tiredly.

Faith leaned forward. She could see the bloodshot eyes and dark circles now that the shock of seeing him sitting in front of her, after what she had done to him, wore off. “But you’re here to fill in the blanks for me. Why?”

“We need you,” Wesley stated.

“Well, uh, I hate to wet the paper for you, Wes, but I’m kinda unavailable right now,” Faith said sarcastically. “Maybe you want to check back in a few decades when my parole comes up.”

“You need to know –” Wesley started to say.

“It’s Armageddon again,” Faith finished. “I dig. The last thing you need is me in the mix. Besides, Angel’ll pull come shining through in the end like he always does.”

“Angel’s gone, Faith.” Wesley stared directly in her eyes. “Angelus is back.”

Faith stared at Wesley with obvious trepidation. After a few minutes of utter silence, she tonelessly advised him, “Step back from the glass.”

Faith slowly hung up the phone. Wesley looked quizzically at her then got the idea and rose so abruptly he knocked over his chair in the action. Faith stood up, stepped back, then took a short rush at the barrier, jumping headfirst through the glass. She tumbled to the floor in a shower of glass shards, rolled to her feet and looked around, ready to fight off the security guards. Disabling two of the guards, she grabbed Wesley by his coat and plunged through the outside window, freefalling from the fourth story window. She managed to turn, catlike, in midair so that she took the brunt of the landing when they hit the roof of a car, smashing it in and busting out the windows.

Jumping to the ground, Faith looked at him. “You okay?”

“Five by five,” Wesley replied, using her favorite saying. Faith nodded and they ran for Wesley’s Jeep, which was parked on the far side of the parking lot.

Once they were on the road, Wesley drove to L.A., which was like driving into a huge black tunnel, minus the mountain. One minute there was bright sunshine and the next, darkness, and ever since permanent midnight descended, there was looting all over the city. There was a time when Wesley would think looting was a crime that had to be stopped, but circumstances called for a person to ignore their own morals and loot a shopping center for suitable clothing for a newly-freed murderer.

Once he procured new clothes for her, Faith got into the back of the Jeep, changing out of her prison garb, as Wesley drove them both back to the Hyperion while filling her in on the team's recent misadventure.

“So, Spike is out there looking to slow down Angelus? Ever think they might just team up together?” Faith asked.

“Spike has a soul now,” Wesley told her as he kept his eyes on the road. It was too dark to see much of anything, even if he considered sneaking a peek at her in the rearview mirror.

“A soul? Like Angel?” Faith asked skeptically.

“Not really. Spike’s is permanent. It isn’t a curse. He had to go through trials and received it,” Wesley replied.

“Okay,” Faith drawled as she pulled the shirt over her head. “Right. And, what, Cordelia spent her last summer as –”

“A divine being,” Wesley finished.

“Uh-huh,” Faith acknowledged. She climbed into the front passenger seat. “Can I just ask – what the hell are you people doing?”

Wesley spared her a sidelong glance. “Leading complicated lives, obviously.”

“Unleashing Angelus to help you stop this demon who put the lights out is just . . .” Faith trailed off.

“Inspired?" Wesley suggested.

"Desperate," Faith corrected.

"That's what inspired us."

"So you create a demon to fight a demon -- because there aren't enough demons?"

“The Beast,” Wesley informed her. “The demon who put out the lights – is called the Beast.”

Faith shook her head. “Gas to the flame’s all I’m saying.” She glanced at the side mirror to see if anyone was following them.

Noticing her vigil, Wesley said, “I wouldn’t worry about the police coming after you. Not yet. With everything that’s happening, an escaped convict won’t even register on their radar.”

Faith stared out the open window. “I’m not going to kill him, Wesley. Angelus.” She shook her head at the thought of all the things he’d told her so far. “I don’t care what you thought you sprung me for. Angel’s the only one in my life who’s never given up on me. There’s no way I’m giving up on –”

“I know,” Wesley cut in and looked at her for a minute before going back to the road. “That’s why it had to be you. I’m just wondering if you’re up to it.” Suddenly, he stopped the car.”

“If I’m –?” Faith started to ask in confusion.

“You have no idea what it’s like out there. It’s a vampire/demon free-for-all, all the time. Maybe you’re a little rusty.”

Faith nodded. She could admit it. “Maybe I am.”

“Maybe we should find out,” Wesley said ominously.

“What did you have in –” Faith was cut off when a vampire reached in through the open passenger window to grab Faith by the hair and pull her out of the car. Wesley opened his car door into a vampire, knocking him to the ground. The vampire got up, but Wesley knocked him down again. It got up a second time, ready to attack, but Wesley stopped him.

“Ah.” Wesley pointed over his shoulder to Faith. “She’s the one you want.”

The vampire looked over to see Faith fighting off a couple of vampires at once.

“Slayer,” the vampire hissed in panic and ran the opposite direction.

Faith continued to fight off the vampires until Wesley tossed her a stake. She used the sharpened wood to dust the vampires with ease.

“I thought you could use a little release. Does it feel natural?” Wesley asked.

Faith shrugged as if it was no big deal. “It’s like riding a biker.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Gunn was loading his crossbow, a look of determination on his face. Fred and Lorne were at the reception desk. Cordelia was still in her room.

“Oh, relax, Gunn. The spell’s working. I still have the slight migraine to prove it,” Lorne said as he held an icepack to his throbbing head.

“Yeah, maybe so, but if Angelus shows up, I wanna be ready,” Gunn said as he examined his weapon, cocked, and loaded it so that he was ready to do some damage.

Wesley and Faith walked in through the front doors on the tail end of Gunn’s comment.

“We are . . . now,” Wesley said, drawing everyone’s attention.

Faith looked around the humungous hotel. It was a step up and a long way from the building Angel used to live and work out of. “Suh-weet crib.”

“Everyone, this is Faith, the vampire Slayer,” Wesley announced.

Fred came around the reception desk. “Hello, Faith, I’m –”

“Fred. Yeah, Wes kinda gave me the skinny on you,” Faith said.

“Oh,” Fred said quietly, a little put off by Faith’s bluntness.

Cordelia made an appearance, walking down the stairs into the lobby. “Faith?” She glared at Wesley. “What the hell is _she_ doing here?”

Faith waved at her with a smirk. “Nice to see you too, Cor.”

“She’s here to help,” Wesley said.

“Oh, gee, that’s great,” Cordelia snapped sarcastically, the venom becoming more potent as she went on. “Oh, wait a sec. Wasn’t she convicted for murder and sent to a state correctional facility for like, a gazillion years? Has it been a gazillion?”

Faith smirked. It was nice to know she still had a lasting impression. “Murder two, twenty-five to life, for the record.”

“So now you brought psycho Slayer out of retirement to kill Angelus?” Cordelia asked incredulously.

Faith walked up to her. “Cordelia, you have every right to feel that way about me. You have no reason to trust me, but I don’t have loads of time, so why don’t we save it until after this is over. Cool?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, let’s get down to it. Spike has a head start on me in locating Angelus, I’m assuming, so we’re going to keep this hunting party tight.” Her sights set on the vampire hunter. “Gunn, right?”

“Yeah,” Gunn acknowledged.

“Love the name. I hear you’re a good fighter,” Faith said flirtatiously, causing Fred to bristle at her tone.

“I hold my own,” Gunn stated.

“Yeah, that's just a good thing going to waste. You’re with me and Wes,” Faith said. “Arm yourself however you like, but I want you to carry the tranq gun. If I can’t take him down, I want you to be ready to take the shot, yeah?” Gunn nodded and she turned her attention to the others. “In case anyone has any other ideas, this is a _salvage_ mission, not search and destroy, okay?” She turned to Wesley. “Take me to your weapons.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Royal Viking Motel_   
**

Spike woke up with a groan. He rubbed a hand down his face and blinked until the darkened room came into focus. He reached out with his senses, but couldn’t detect Angelus anywhere.

“Bugger,” Spike swore.

His Sire had taken off while he was out cold. Remembering how he got there, and in this deplorable condition, he reached up and felt his neck. Fresh scars. _That bastard nearly ripped me to shreds in that claiming._ Spike got up, showered the blood off himself, and dressed. Taking one look at the blood on the sheets, most of it his, he quickly scribbled a note on the complimentary motel pad then left the room.

**************************

**  
_A Street in Los Angeles_   
**

A young woman fled in terror from two vampires that were chasing her down a trash-littered street. Angelus stepped out of a dark alley as if appearing from nowhere, put his arm around her in a seemingly comforting gesture.

“Help me,” she pleaded.

“It’s all right, doll. I got you,” Angelus soothed.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said as he walked her along the sidewalk.

Angelus turned to her, his vampire visage fully emerged. “I do. Scream for me!” She screamed, loudly, and he was moving in to take a bite out of her neck when he overheard three other vampires talking a block away.

“The Slayer? Are you sure?” the first vampire asked.

“I just got word. She’s in town,” the second vampire confirmed.

Angelus smiled at the thought of Buffy being in town. He owed her _so_ much. Absently he released his captive, who ran away, still screaming, and went to a phone booth. He dialed Buffy’s number.

“Hi, Dawn? Yeah, it’s me,” he said conversationally. “Is your sister home? She is.” He hung up without so much as a goodbye and grimaced. “It’s the other one.”

**************************

**  
_A Street in Los Angeles_   
**

Faith, Gunn and Wesley walked down the street, searching for Angelus.

“So, vampire Slayers,” Gunn began casually, “I’ve heard about you. Always thought you were a myth, though. There was a never a Slayer in my neighborhood.”

They came up to a chain link fence and went through a hole in the bottom.

“Eyes and ears peeled,” Faith said. “Watch the periph. Nobody make a move until I –”

Spike jumped out of an alley and Gunn drew his weapon, ready to pull the trigger, but stopped when he saw who it was.

“What the hell, Spike? I almost dusted you!” Gunn hissed.

“Good thing you didn’t, Charlie-boy,” Spike said. “I heard footsteps, didn’t realize it was you.” He noticed Faith then, her crossbow pointed at his chest. “Hello, luv. See you got an invite to the party. Did you get early release for good behavior, pet?”

“I heard you were all soulful now,” Faith remarked. "Wanna hit me up with a little Curtis Mayfield?"

“Yeah,” Spike drawled, glaring at Wesley and Gunn. Gunn shrugged. "Not really my style."

“Always have to be like Angel?” Faith teased humorlessly.

“No,” Spike scoffed. “I’m _nothing_ like Angel.”

“Also heard you were distracting Angelus. Did you find him?” Faith asked.

“Oh, yeah, we found each other. Couldn’t keep him distracted for long though,” Spike admitted. “He's got stamina, took off. Probably got a few hours head start on me.”

“Well, come on, then,” Faith said, gesturing down the street with a nod of her head.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Warehouse District_   
**

Faith, Gunn, Wesley and Spike walked out of a warehouse door, onto its roof.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Wesley asked.

“Angelus is close. I can feel him,” Spike assured him.

“I’m sure something will turn up . . .” Faith trailed off as a huge object caught her attention. When she stopped talking suddenly, the boys followed her gaze. There was a sign hanging from the side of the building that read: ‘WELCOME FAITH’.

“So much for the element of surprise,” Wesley observed. “We’ll have to come at him from different angles.”

Faith looked at Spike, and he nodded. “You take low. I’ll hit him high.” With that, she climbed up on the second tier of the roof while he darted through an emergency door and down the stairs.

Wesley and Gunn were left standing outside. A vampire came out of nowhere and punched Wesley.

“Pretty ballsy, mister, creeping around my _buddy_ Angelus.” Wesley swung at him. “Come on, pretty boy,” the vampire taunted.

A second vampire knocked the tranquilizer gun out of Gunn’s hands and stomped on it when he moved to pick it up. When Gunn looked up at the vampire, the creature sneered and backhanded Gunn, which caused Gunn’s head to snap back. Gunn slowly tilted his head forward, thumbed blood from the corner of his mouth, and smiled grimly at the vampire.

"Let's try that again," he invited.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Warehouse_   
**

Faith jumped from the roof, through the broken skylights, into the warehouse.

“Hey, Faith,” Angelus’s voice casually greeted from somewhere in the building. “Nice to see you again. Mmm. You’re looking choice as ever. Isn’t she, Spike?” There was no answer. “I know you’re in here, William. You can’t hide from me. I can feel you through the claim I put on you. Angel was so selfish not to let me do it before now.” Spike remained silent, refusing to be baited, so Angelus addressed Faith again, “That’s right. We’ve never really met, have we, Faith?”

“So, what are you waiting for? Come out and gimme a kiss,” Faith suggested as she made her way through the stacked crates.

“No, no, no,” Angelus rebuked. “You come to me. That’s it. Getting warmer. Warmer . . . warmer. You’re smoking hot.”

Faith reached the main loading dock and turned around to find Angelus standing immediately behind her.

Angelus smirked. “But then again, you probably knew that. Honey, I brought a guest home for dinner.” Faith turned to discover the Beast standing on the other side of her. Angelus crossed his arms and chuckled. “Let’s eat.”

“What _is_ this, Angelus?” the Beast asked unimpressed.

“This is a Slayer. Say ‘hi’ to the nice Beast, Faith,” Angelus said.

“You dare to bring a Slayer here?” the Beast asked.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor, Stonehenge.” Angelus walked up to Faith. “She’s here to seriously mess up you and your boss’ plans. So, question is, what do you do, hot shot? What do _you_ do?”

Faith fired her crossbow at the Beast, but his tough skin deflected it. She dropped the weapon and punched him, but he grabbed her by the throat.

“Smile, Faith. I thought you’d enjoy a threesome,” Angelus teased.

Faith punched Angelus then the Beast, wrestling free of his grip. “Sure.”

“Ooh,” Angelus chuckled as he held his nose.

“Let’s get it on,” Faith said.

“Tough words,” Angelus sneered, then addressed the Beast, “Watch yourself, big guy. The girl’s on fire.’

Faith punched the Beast everywhere she could think of, but to no avail. He punched her once, sending her sailing through air, ten feet backward, where she crashed into the side of a crate.

Angelus winced. “That’s going to sting in the morning.”

Faith climbed out of the crate, got to her feet, and charged at the Beast. They exchanged a flurry of blows before the Beast began to get the upper hand in the fight. Faith was bleeding, and her reflexes were slowing down. He kicked her to the ground then stepped on her as she tried to get up.

“Come on, Faithy! You’re not even trying,” Angelus loudly encouraged.

The Beast grabbed Faith, lifting her so that she faced his savage countenance. She glared at him for a moment before spitting blood in his face. He lifted her high over his head then body slammed her into the floor.

“Angelus!” Spike snarled, weaving his way through the stacks of pallets and crates just as the Beast kicked Faith, sending her sliding across the room. “End it now, you sadistic fuck!”

“He’s not my pet, Spike. He doesn't take his orders from me,” Angelus excused himself from responsibility. Spike strode up to his Sire then slugged him in the face without a moment's hesitation. Angelus rubbed his throbbing jaw and sighed. “Fine! Somebody _should_ break this up.”

Faith was a few feet away, gasping in pain and trying to crawl away from the Beast.

“ _This_ is all you are?” the Beast asked her with obvious disdain. “I had heard the Slayer possessed great strength, but there’s no real power here. My master’s power is beyond all limits, beyond your petty imagining. You are weak. You are nothing. You could not even defeat _me_.”

Angelus strolled over to stand at the Beast's side. “Ain’t that the truth. I mean, look at this guy, hmm? Pretty much the only thing that could do damage to that thick, stony hide . . . is himself. Or, maybe, I don’t know,” Angelus pulled out the twin-tined knife Cordelia used to kill Lilah, the one the Beast had carved out of one of his own bones in tribute to his master. “A piece of himself!” Angelus stabbed the Beast in the back with the knife.

The Beast struggled in vain to reach the knife to pull it out, knocking Angelus to the ground in the process. It roared in agony as the wound began to glow a lurid yellow color. The glow became brighter and stronger, consuming the Beast, and a bolt of brilliance shot up from its body toward the sky.

“I knew it! I knew it!” Angelus congratulated himself.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Outside the Warehouse_   
**

Wesley and Gunn stopped fighting when the burst of light shot out from the building. They looked up to the sky and watched as the darkness that shrouded the sun dissipated when the light seemed to slam into it. Suddenly, the vampires that Wesley and Gunn were fighting, snarled in surprised pain, burning and crumbling to dust before their eyes.

“Faith,” Wesley said simply.

“She did it,” Gunn grinned.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Inside the Warehouse_   
**

The Beast’s body crumbled to bits in front of Faith, who still sat on the floor, weak and beaten.

Angelus looked out of the dirty windows and saw the sun return to its former brilliance. He rolled his eyes at Spike. “Aw, shit! You mean killing the Beast really _does_ bring back the sun? I thought that was Angel’s retarded fantasy.” Angelus got to his feet. “Oh well, what’re you going to do? Take the bad with the good I always say.”

“You do not!” Spike countered.

“I just wanted Beastie boy to soften you up,” Angelus leered at Faith. “I like my meat nice and tender." Faith struggled to get to her feet, swinging a heavy hook and chain on a hoist toward Angelus, but it swung past him as he and Spike ducked aside in opposite directions. “Ooh, swing and a miss slugger. Sorry, but –” The hook and chain broke through a dirty window to allow sunlight into the room. Faith sat up in the sunlight as Spike and Angelus ran for cover. “God! Okay. Well, I got to give you props.” He glared at Faith and Spike glared at him. “Nice move, really. I guess we’ll have to take a rain check on that whole eviscerating you thing. It’s just you and me now, Faithy.” He winked at her and walked away.

From the shadows, Spike quietly asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” Faith groaned painfully.

Spike remained in the shadows, watching over her.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Courtyard_   
**

Fred and Lorne were in the garden, staring at the blue sky as if they'd never imagined such a color, when Wesley and Gunn came back.

“Ooh-oo,” Gunn smiled. “Check it out. We got sun!”

“Ding dong, the Beast is dead,” Lorne sing-songed.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life,” Fred smiled then looked around. “Where are the others?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s hear the war stories,” Lorne encouraged. “How’d you bring down that monster?”

“It wasn’t us. Not Wes and me, anyway. We —”

“She must have fought it. Faith,” Wesley cut in. “Where’s Cordelia? She should know about this too.”

“She’s up in her room,” Fred told him.

“Hey, what about Angelus?” Lorne asked.

Gunn still had a grin on his face, staring up at the sky. “Well, if that girl can take out the Beast, my money says she’ll have Angelus hog-tied and back here by dinner time.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia stared out the window with a glower on her face. This was _not_ how she had planned. Someone managed to kill the Beast and release the sun, and she had a good idea about who that person was. She was far from happy with this turn of events because it meant having to adapt her strategy. She reached over and pulled open the drawer to her nightstand. Inside, Angel’s soul glowed like a beacon of hope within the Muo-Ping jar.


	13. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 61: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 11)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment, Night_   
**

Wesley had gone home for the night and just fixed a drink when there was a knock on the door. He put down his drink, getting up to answer the incessant pounding, which included British expletives, on the other side. Opening the door, he was confronted by Spike, holding up Faith, with her arm around his neck. She was battered, bloody and bruised.

“I need an invite, Percy or I can drop her on the bloody floor in front of you,” Spike said impatiently.

“Come in,” Wesley said quickly, stepping aside to allow Spike's entrance.

He watched as Spike helped Faith hobble into the room, blood dripping on his wood floor as she scuffled forward with small steps. She looked exhausted.

“Sit here,” Wesley offered the easy chair then went into the kitchen to get an icepack. “How’d you make it here?”

“Had to wait ’til dark then stole a car and drove her over here. You’re still technically her Watcher, right?” Spike asked.

Wesley nodded, moving closer and brushing away Faith’s hair from her bruised jaw. “Hold this,” he instructed, pressing the icepack to her jaw. “I’ll get bandages.” He started to walk away, but Faith’s voice stopped him.

“There’s no trauma. I’m good,” Faith assured him, continuing to nurse her jaw with the icepack.

“Bloody hell you’re good,” Spike cursed sardonically as he glared at her. “You were nearly killed by that thing!”

Faith looked at Spike and then glanced at Wesley. “I could use a shower.”

Wesley made a wide gesture toward the bathroom door. “Of course.” He watched her stagger to her feet and hobble toward the bathroom on her own. “Faith, are you sure you’re okay?”

Faith stopped walking for a moment and tried to lick the blood off her lips. “A little sticky.” She handed the icepack to Spike as she passed him, stripping off her jeans jacket along the way to the shower.

“What the hell happened, Spike?” Wesley asked angrily.

“I caught up with her in the warehouse, when she and the Beast were already fighting. Angelus was watching the whole thing happen,” Spike told him.

“And you didn’t try to stop him?” Wesley asked accusingly.

“What the bloody buggering fuck was I supposed to do? The big hunk of rock doesn’t take orders from anyone but its master! And I can tell you with certainty that Angelus _was not_ his master.” He tossed the icepack at Wesley, who caught it against his chest, as he headed for the door. Spike had a soul, but he was still a vampire and Slayer’s blood was like nectar from the gods. He had to get out of there.

"Where are you going?" asked the Watcher.

“She’s a Slayer and her blood is all over me. The smell's driving me to distraction," Spike explained. "I need to get out of here before I go in there and try to drain her dry. I have to go back to the hotel anyway, shower and change clothes myself before I head back out there to look for Angelus.”

**************************

Faith heard the door slam shut as Spike left the apartment. She dropped her jeans jacket on the floor then looked in the mirror at her reflection. Her face was bloodied and beaten. She sighed and proceeded to take off her boots and her shirt. The mirror reflected a severely battered body. She had bloody gashes and scrapes in some places, and bruises in all of the others. She unhooked her bra, unbuckled her belt and dropped it all to the floor.

Standing painfully on tiptoes, she opened the shower door and stepped inside the stall on bloody, beaten legs. She turned on the hot water knob only, standing tentatively under the shower nozzle. She leaned into the water so that only her face connected with the spray. The tiny jets of hot water soothed as she turned her face from side to side, letting the water pour over her. Blood streaked down her body and legs, pooling at her feet and swirling around the drain. Weakly, she pushed her hair aside to let the water rinse the dried blood off her cheek.

In utter exhaustion, she stared through the shower stream in front of her, eyes haunted, mortality staring unblinkingly back at her. Suddenly, she punched the wall in front of her, knocking a dent in the tiles. Then she punched the wall again and again, more and more ferociously. Still pounding the tiles, she screamed until the wall crumbled into shards of tile on the stall floor.

After several minutes of primal screaming, she took a deep breath, regaining her composure. She pushed her hair back out of her face, trying to catch her breath, staring through the shower spray at the destroyed wall in front of her. Finally, she shut her eyes and stepped fully under the spray, starting to wash away the dirt, grime and blood.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Demon Bar_   
**

A bartender prepared a beer glass full of blood for the cocktail waitress who then carried it over to Angelus. He was sitting at a table talking to a couple of other vampires.

“Compliments of the lady,” the waitress told him, gesturing toward a vampire woman at the bar who raised her glass in salute to Angelus.

Angelus glanced at the vampire at the bar then back at his acquaintances. “Yeah, as if. Anyway, I couldn’t believe how easy it was to lure the Slayer into my little welcome home from prison party.”

“Wish I could have been there when she saw the Beast,” one of the vampires remarked. Mentally, Angelus had nicknamed that vampire, Jeckle.

Angelus continued to regale his captive audience with stories. “Well, that guy wasn’t going to win any personality contests, but he put on a good show. Slapped her around with extreme professionalism.”

“Like a little bunny?” the other vampire at the table asked. And this one, Angelus internally nicknamed, Heckle.

Angelus smiled in a self-satisfied way. “A bloody, whimpering bunny.” That sent the two vampires into fits of laughter. “Once she was tenderized, I gave Rocko the shaft. He never saw it coming, dumbass.”

“Yeah, soul-boy,” a demon sitting at the bar mumbled. “Nice job, bringing the sun back.”

Angelus overheard the demon at the bar and smirked. The other two vampires at the table sat frozen in fear watching as Angelus rose and went over to the demon. The demon turned to look at the vampire looming over him and laughed nervously.

“Oh, hey, Angelus. Buy you a warm one?”

Angelus calmly laid a hand on the demon’s shoulder. “Maybe after.”

“After what?” the demon asked fearfully.

“After I rip out your windpipe so it stops making that annoying talky sound,” Angelus joked menacingly.

“Angelus!” Spike shouted over the music when he saw his Sire at the bar.

“William, my boy!” Angelus greeted as the younger vampire moved closer to him. “I was just about to correct this demon’s etiquette. Want to help?”

Spike was dressed in cleaner clothes, his hair freshly slicked back, and his signature black duster swirling around his legs as he walked.

“Wait!” the demon hurried to defend himself. “I have a condition. Whoop! Goh, boy! Dirty bitch! Tourettes. You’ve heard of it, right?" He nodded so rapidly that Spike thought his head would fall off.

“Yeah,” Angelus replied. “It causes uncontrollable impulses, like yanking out throats.” He squeezed the demon’s neck.

“Bloody hell, I must have had tourettes all these years,” Spike commented to himself. He hit Angelus in the arm. “And here you thought I was just a miscreant childe.”

Suddenly, Angelus heard a mysterious imposing voice in his head. _“Hello, Angelus. It’s time we had that talk.”_

Angelus looked around for the voice, but didn’t see anyone new in the bar. “Was that you, Spike?”

“Was what me?” Spike asked confused.

Looking at Spike, with his hand still choking the demon in front of him, Angelus continued talking to the voice in his head. “Where are you?”

“Wherever you want me to be, buddy,” the demon replied nervously.

“Shut it, ram-horns!” Spike snarled as he continued to watch his Sire have a Hamlet moment.

 _“I’m where it’s warm and soft,”_ the mysterious voice said.

Angelus released the demon and stalked around the bar, Spike following him out of curiosity. He tried and failed to slip inside Angelus’ mind to hear who, or what, he was talking to. Something was blocking his efforts to reach his Sire telepathically. It was like ramming up against a fifty foot steel barricade. Something was trying to keep them separated and it was pissing him off.

“Hide and seek, huh?” Angelus was saying. “Okay, I’ll play.”

 _“Playtime is over. You’ve been a bad boy. You killed my favorite pet,”_ the mysterious voice said angrily.

“I thought that might get your attention,” Angelus remarked, then realized everyone in the bar was looking at him like he was insane, which wasn't especially uncommon for him.

“I think we need to get out of here, mate,” Spike suggested, feeling the hostile eyes upon them like physical pressure. This crowd looked ready to attack them because his Sire was having a conversation with a hallucination and Spike was familiar with freaked-out crowd mentality.

 _“Initiative,”_ the mysterious voice laughed darkly. _“I like that, but you needn’t have bothered.”_ Spike dragged Angelus out of the bar and into a back room. _“I’ve had my eyes on you for some time.”_

The back room was where some of the seedier activities in the bar went on. Vampires were feeding off of willing and unwilling humans, and everyone was getting high in whatever method was favored. A drugged girl slipped her arms around Angelus.

“Hey, baby, how ’bout a kiss?” she giggled suggestively.

Angelus pushed her away to deal with the voice that invaded his mind while Spike grabbed the girl, and pushing her toward the back entrance.

“Get lost little girl,” Spike ordered as he forcibly ushered her into the back alley then slammed the door shut between them. “Stupid bint,” he grumbled under his breath.

“You like to watch, huh?” Angelus asked the voice.

 _“One of many things we have in common,”_ the mysterious voice said.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Angelus shrugged. “I’m more of a hands-on kind of a guy.” He turned around and spotted a vampire staring at him between draughts from a drugged girl. “You. Scram.” He picked up the vampire, throwing him through the beaded curtain that separated the bar from the back room. The beads rattled convulsively as he continued to address the voice in his head, “Okay! Come on. Have you got a pair, or is the wind you’re blowing up my ass all you can get up? Hey, here’s a kooky idea; now that I’ve killed your mobile pet rock, how ’bout a little face-to-face, huh? Assuming that you’ve got one of those!”

 _“Don’t worry,”_ the mysterious voice dismissed his insult.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

A white-eyed Cordelia was speaking aloud in her empty room, and every word was what Angelus heard in his head. “We’ll meet when you’re ready.”

**************************

**  
_Back Room of the Demon Bar_   
**

“Oh, _come on_! Why the stalling? You whipped up a rain of fire, blotted out the sun, earthquakes . . . all to maneuver the Brady Bunch into releasing Angel’s inner me. Well, here I am. Don’t you wanna kick the tires?” Angelus taunted.

 _“So beautifully vain,”_ the mysterious voice observed.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

White-eyed Cordelia held a glowing orange crystal in the palm of her hand. It was this arcane object she was using to communicate with Angelus, disguising her voice. “But the whirlwind doesn’t always revolve around you. Destruction can be its own reward.”

**************************

**  
_Back Room of the Demon Bar_   
**

“Hey man, you’re preaching to the guy who _ate_ the choir,” Angelus agreed, making Spike chuckle. “Wait, it was _you_ , wasn’t it? You pulled the wrong strings to make them think it was _their_ idea. You got ’em to yank that white, fluffy soul, stuff it in a jar, then gone, baby, gone!”

 _“I couldn’t risk them putting it back in you. Not when I have wonderful plans for you, my sweet boy,”_ the mysterious voice fairly crooned.

“Uh, yeah, but the thing is, as far as plans go, I make my own. So, you know, thanks for stopping by my head, but I've got personal carnage to wreak,” Angelus snarled as he stalked toward the door.

 _“You dare to defy me?”_ the mysterious voice asked angrily.

“Defy who? A big, scary voice?” Angelus asked sarcastically. “Whoa! Hey, I got one of those, too. You wanna hear it?” He cupped his hands over his mouth. “You can kiss my vampire _ass_!” He dropped his hands and asked, “Did that do anything for you?”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia was lying on her bed, holding the crystal, when Lorne knocked on her door before entering. She quickly closed her hand over the crystal, closing her eyes as the green singer walked into the bedroom. When she reopened them, they were their normal, snapping brown.

“Hey, sugar plum. I brought you another blanket,” Lorne said solicitously as he unfolded it and sat on the bed, beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little woozy,” Cordelia replied softly. “It could be the whole Angelus-nailing-me-with-a-crossbow thing.”

Lorne slipped an extra pillow behind her head. "That'll do it, sunshine."

**************************

**  
_Back Room of the Demon Bar_   
**

Angelus had been yelling at the mysterious voice for an hour. “ ** _Hello!_** Hey, I got places to go, friends to kill – well, not actually _my_ friends, but you get the idea. You got any more bluster you want to blow up there?” When he still received no answer, he went on. “That’s what I thought!”

“What the bloody hell, Angelus?” Spike asked with a look of confusion on his face.

They both turned to look when a drugged vampire spoke up from a corner, “Dude, whatever you’re on . . . I’ll give you the girl for a gram.”

Angelus snarled and smacked the emergency exit to leave by way of the back alley, Spike following him.

“What the bloody hell was that, Angelus?” Spike asked as he followed.

“I think it was the Beast's master’s voice,” Angelus replied. “The damn thing gate-crashed my head. You’re telling me you didn’t hear it?”

Spike shook his head. “No. I couldn’t slip into your mind at all. It found a way to block me out no matter how much I tried.”

“I guess I’ll have to put off terrorizing the city until after I find out what the voice wants with me,” Angelus mused.

Spike nodded as he trailed after his Sire. He wagered he might not be able to stop Angelus, but he could try to curb the damage his Sire was bound to cause.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

“Not that I’m a big fan of hers, because she tortured me, but are you sure Faith’s all right?” Cordelia asked.

“Yes. When Wesley called, he said she was hurt pretty badly, but she’s a Slayer. They’re really strong.”

“For a human,” Cordelia added derisively. “I still can’t believe Angelus killed the Beast.”

“He fought dirty,” Lorne opined.

Cordelia looked at him, hopeful that he would agree with her. “Maybe this means we did the right thing, bringing back Angelus.”

“Right,” Lorne agreed without enthusiasm.

“Sure, Angelus isn’t the best person to be around, but he did the world a favor by killing the Beast, right? He made things safer,” Cordelia reasoned.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Gunn handed a loaded tranquilizer gun to Fred. “Meet your new best friend. If super-bad shows up, the sanctuary spell should keep us safe, but –”

“But?” Fred echoed. “There’s always a ‘but’. When this is over, can we have a big ‘but’ moratorium?”

Lorne came down the stairs. He frowned when Gunn handed him a tranquilizer pistol. “Did I mention that the only shots I’m good at involve Tequila?”

“You don’t think Angelus is planning a repeat performance, do you? I-I mean, he’s gotta know we’d be prepared.”

“It doesn’t man we drop our guard. If he pops a fang in here, thwack him where it hurts,” Gunn said.

“Yeah, good night not-so-sweet prince,” Lorne added as he examined his weapon.

“How’s Cordy?” Gunn asked.

“Tired. But she seemed fine to me,” Lorne said. “She was about to take a nap when I left her.”

“Well, I’m going to double-check downstairs and make sure he can’t creep in through any of the sewer tunnels,” Gunn advised them as he headed for the basement with a tranquilizer rifle in hand.

“Yeah, if Lilah managed to break and enter –” Fred started to say, but was suddenly startled by movement on the stairs, drawing her weapon on Spike who was on his way down the steps.

“Whoa! Fred, wrong vampire,” Spike mock surrendered, holding up his hands in defeat. “I just came back because it looked like Angelus doubled back and I wanted to beat him here before he showed up.”

“Oh, sorry. I—” Fred started to stammer as she lowered her weapon.

“What’s it look like out there?” Lorne interrupted.

“A demon free-for-all. Only now there’s a time limit, with the sun being back,” Spike replied.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Fred observed. “Wes said Faith kind of got demolished. She’s supposed to be our best chance of getting Angel back, but what if she’s not up to it?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I haven’t been doing all the legwork to keep carnage to a minimum or anything. I’ve just been keeping him from adding to the body count out there, but, hey, the Slayer’s our best chance of getting Angel back, huh?” Spike ranted sarcastically. “I know my Sire better than anyone. He’s got enough to worry about, what with the Beastmaster talking to him.”

"Marc Singer?" Fred asked.

The others pretended not to hear her question. “The Beastmaster has been talking to Angelus?” Gunn asked.

“Yeah, he got into Angelus’ head and made him go a little barmy. The soddin’ thing blocked me from entering his mind, too. From what I gather though, he made you all think taking Angel’s soul was your idea, but he’s the one who really has plans for Angelus. He didn’t elaborate,” Spike explained.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment_   
**

Showered and dressed, Faith came out of the bathroom and walked into the living room where Wesley was packing up a case of vials and needles.

“I'm squeaky clean. Let’s blow,” Faith said. Wesley just stared at her and she shrugged. “Right. Uh, sorry about your bathroom. Come on, let’s do this.”

“I’m not worried about the bathroom,” Wesley said as he stood up. “Although I’m fairly sure my security deposit’s a complete loss. I need to know you’re in the game, Faith. _All_ the way.”

She grabbed her duffel bag and looked into his eyes. “Five by five, boss.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_   
**

Fred was in heavy research mode. Now that she knew from Spike that the Beastmaster had plans for Angelus, she was scouring everything they had on the Beast, and whatever Wolfram & Hart took out of Lorne’s head, to figure out what those plans could be.

Fred looked around the office. “If I were a Runic transcription guide,” she walked over to a bookcase she’d already searched through, “I would be . . .” And on the umpteenth pass, she found the book. “Shelved wrong.”

“Talking to yourself, Fred?” She spun around to find Angelus standing in the doorway of the office. “Seems to be a lot of that going around.”

“You can’t hurt me,” Fred declared with a hint of uncertainty. It was unnerving being around Angelus because it was Angel’s face staring back at her. “We did a no-demon violence thingy.”

“Oh, yeah, the sanctuary spell,” Angelus smirked. “Shucks. Oh, wait a minute. I think I –” He pulled a charm out of his pocket and twirled it around his fingers as he slowly stalked Fred around the office. “Kind of thought you pesky P.I.’s would be humming that old tune, so I picked up a little somethin’-somethin’ . . . lets me be as demon-y as I wanna be.”

“I don’t believe you,” Fred said, hoping she sounded as confident as she imagined in her head.

Angelus took the book out of Fred’s hand, pressed her back to the wall, and slammed the book against the wall beside her, causing her to jump in surprise. “How about _now_?”

“W-what do you want?” Fred asked tremulously.

“Maybe I just miss you,” Angelus purred into her ear, making her squeeze her eyes shut against the memory of the sound of Angel’s voice from that fateful night, echoing in her mind. Then, Angelus’ taunting voice broke through. “Well, since you brought it up. Let’s talk Beastmaster. I’m sure Spike told you about what happened, so what do you got?”

Fred shook her head fearfully. “Nothing.”

“Come on, Fred,” Angelus pressed his pelvis against her as he glanced over at the papers on the desk. “All this raw material. A brainiac like you must have a theory.”

“If I did, you’re the last person I’d tell,” Fred said through gritted teeth. She tried to push against his chest, but he may as well been a boulder.

“Well, all right then,” Angelus said airily. He put down the book on top of the file cabinet beside her and strolled over to the desk. She breathed a sigh of relief once he wasn’t crowding her. “I’ll take these,” he told her, gathering up the papers and a book from the desk. “Thanks for nothing.”

“I do know one thing,” she informed his retreating back. “You’re out of your league. Whatever you’re up against – he’ll make you his bitch just like he did with the Beast. So, if you’re going to kill me, get it over with.” She caught glimpse of Angelus’ charm. “Made in China?”

Realizing he fooled her with a fake charm, Fred smashed a glass pitcher over Angelus’ head, then grabbed her tranquilizer gun. She shot at him, but he ducked and the dart hit the wall behind him. Rolling across the floor, toward the door, he bounced to his feet and ran out of the office with Fred, still armed with the gun, in hot pursuit.

She ran out into the lobby, pursuing Angelus with the gun cocked and ready. She aimed the gun just as Angelus ran past Lorne, but she missed and the dart hit Lorne, who promptly passed out mid-cursing.

“Lorne!” Fred cried guiltily.

Angelus leapt up to the balcony in one smooth motion as Fred took another shot at him, but he blocked the dart with the book he'd stolen from her.

Angelus looked at the dart stuck in the hard cover of the book and smirked. “You can’t beat a good book.” Fred pulled the trigger again, but the gun was empty and Angelus grinned. “Too bad, I was just starting to have fun.”

Spike stalked down the hall toward Angelus. “Why stop now?”

Angelus had no clue where his boy came from. One minute he was on the balcony alone, the next Spike was there. The younger vampire lunged at him, but a force field blocked and repelled him mid-motion, sending him over the balcony ledge to land flat on his back on the lobby floor.

“Spike!” Fred shrieked, running to his side.

Angelus leapt down to the lobby from the balcony and stood next to Spike’s body. To all intents and purposes, the blonde appeared dead, but the older vampire could tell that the bruising was already fading. His mate would be right as bloody rain in a short time and that meant he had to hightail it now before Spike gained consciousness and could catch up with him. He pulled the dart out of the book and tossed it on the floor in front of Fred.

“Nice try, Fred. You think about how close you came to stopping me when I’m out slaughtering everyone,” Angelus taunted before swiftly crossing the lobby and making his getaway through the back entrance.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Courtyard_   
**

Faith and Wesley were walking through the garden on their way to the rear entrance of the lobby at the moment Angelus was making his escape.

“We track him, we find him, we –” Faith was saying.

Angelus appeared outside at the tail end of their conversation, adding, “Get your asses kicked? I don’t know, wild guess.”

Faith immediately went into defense mode, kicking at Angelus. Wesley aimed his tranquilizer gun at Angelus, but the vampire shoved Faith into Wesley, knocking the gun from the Watcher's hands and it landed in the bushes. Angelus grabbed the unarmed man by the throat and used him as a shield against Faith.

“Sucky spell, huh? You think it’d at least reach as far as the sidewalk,” Angelus taunted.

Faith naturally fell into fighting stance. “Let him go. This is between you and me.”

“It’s never just between you and me, Faith. Wes will always be in the middle,” Angelus said, tightening his hold on Wesley’s throat. Faith watched them, looking for the best advantage to attack. “That’s it. Do the math. Can you get to me before I snap his neck? Are you still that fast? Wes is just _dying_ to find out, aren’t you, Wes?”

“Do it,” Wesley told her.

“That’s it. Come on. Do it. Take your shot, and save the world,” Angelus taunted. “Come on. What’re you waiting for? It’s all about choices, Faith; the ones we make, and the ones we don’t. Oh, and the consequences. Those are always fun.” Angelus squeezed Wesley’s neck harder, cutting off his air. “Don’t worry about good ol’ Wes. What’s one more body to us? Come on, where’s my girl?”

Gunn ran out to the garden with two guns, having come up from the basement in time to see Spike shake his head from the effects of the sanctuary spell. Fred quickly told him about Angelus and he dashed outside to see if he could catch up to him only to find Angelus in a standoff with Faith, Wesley stuck in the middle.

“Faith!” Gunn threw a firearm to Faith then pointed his weapon at Angelus.

Angelus let go of Wesley and ran off, vaulting over the fence. Faith fired at him twice, missing, before Angelus disappeared over the fence. Gunn charged out of the gate to pursue Angelus as Faith went to Wesley’s aid.

“Go!” Wesley ordered.

Faith nodded, bolting from the courtyard like a filly from the starting gate, easily catching up with Gunn in the street.

“He’s gone,” Gunn unnecessarily told her as he looked up and down both sides of the street.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

After Wesley, Gunn, and Faith returned to the hotel empty-handed, Fred went upstairs to check on Cordelia, knocking on the door before she entered.

“Cordy?” Cordelia’s room was empty, but Fred heard a flushing noise from the bathroom.

Cordelia walked out of the bathroom. “What?” she asked.

“Are you okay?” Fred inquired.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Cordelia asked as she limped back to bed.

“Angelus. He was here again,” Fred informed her.

“Excuse me?” Cordelia asked surprised. “He was?”

“Yeah. Downstairs. He caught me alone and used a fake charm. It fooled me long enough for him to take everything we had on whomever the Beast was working for,” she admitted ashamedly, leaning back against the wall near the door and sighing. If only she hadn’t fallen for that fake charm.

“That son of a bi . . .” Cordelia began.

“He nearly killed Wesley outside of the hotel,” Fred interrupted. “But Gunn and Faith chased him off.”

“Bonus points for our side,” Cordelia said flippantly.

“He took Lilah’s book, the stuff from Lorne’s head, everything. Spike thinks the Beastmaster has plans for Angelus and Angelus is trying to figure out why,” Fred finished. “We’re just lucky no one got seriously hurt this time.”

“So, the sanctuary spell held up. No demon violence in the hotel?” Cordelia asked with genuine curiosity.

“None, it worked. Spike and Lorne have the lumps to prove it,” Fred reported.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

After Fred filled in Cordelia on what happened, she went back downstairs where Lorne slept on the couch, Faith and Wesley sat on the round settee, and Gunn stood behind the reception desk. Spike sat on another couch, against one wall, still trying to regain his bearings.

“All I’m saying is, if he tries dancing in here and pulling a **_Dark Shadows_** again, he’s going to get a dart up his evil ass,” Gunn stated matter-of-factly.

“Well, his ass moves pretty quick,” Fred pointed out. “He got the book, and the Wolfram & Hart papers.”

Gunn sighed and repeated what he’d been telling her since the incident. “It’s not your fault.”

“I bet they think it was,” Fred glanced around the lobby at the other members of Team Angel – sans Angel.

“Like they were any more help,” Gunn said sarcastically.

“Supergirl wouldn’t have fallen for a cheap hunk of crap like this,” Fred grumbled, twirling the charm around her fingers.

“I’m just glad it was a fake. If anything happened to you . . .” Gunn trailed off, leaving far too much unsaid for Fred to deal with at the moment.

“Charles, can we maybe –” Fred was cut off by Wesley cocking a shotgun that took real bullets and she turned to him. “What’re you doing with that?” she asked.

“Changing the game,” Wesley said.

Wesley cocking the gun also grabbed Spike’s attention. “By blowing his legs off?” Spike asked.

Simultaneously Faith said, “I thought we weren’t going for the kill.”

“We’re not, but if we get another chance, I want to slow him down long enough to tranq him,” Wesley replied.

“I know we agreed on ‘any means necessary’, Percy, but a shotgun, really?” Spike asked, his scarred brow arched.

“You want some help with that?” Gunn asked, suddenly interested.

“No. I need someone to watch the hotel. Someone who can actually hurt Angelus,” Wesley said. Fred frowned at him, taking offense.

“Oh, I’m all over that,” Gunn said sardonically.

“Well, that leaves me out then,” Spike said. “I’m forfeiting my baby-sitting duties.” He sauntered out the front entrance.

They all watched Spike leave, then Wesley turned to Fred. “Be careful. Next time he shows up, he might be packing the real thing.”

Faith and Wesley left the hotel, going out, into the street.

“Start with a perimeter sweep, I’ll take point. Stay frosty. If he’s still in the area –” Faith started to say.

“You’ll let him escape again?” Wesley finished.

Faith rolled her eyes. “This coming from the boy-hostage?”

“Angelus was right. You should have gone for him,” Wesley said accusingly.

“He would have killed you,” Faith pointed out.

“And how many will he have the chance to murder now because you let that make a difference? Angelus is an animal and the only way to defeat him is to be just as vicious as he is,” Wesley said.

“Tough talk coming from a former Watcher,” Spike called from the shadows before strolling out into the light. “Angelus may be an animal to you, but to be as vicious as him, you'll have to be a vampire. Which she isn’t,” Spike pointed out before shifting to his demon visage. “But I am.” With that remark, he vaulted over the gate and disappeared into the night, leaving Wesley and Faith staring after him.

“Or we just follow Spike until he leads us to Angelus,” Faith suggested.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Occult Bookstore, Night_   
**

A sign that read ‘AURA READINGS’ stood on a table with an assortment of incense sticks. A fire burned brightly in the hearth. Wearing reading glasses, Angelus sat by the fire, leafing through the papers and book he took from Fred. He removed the glasses and threw them at the terrified shopkeeper lying on the floor; the injured man struggling to back away.

“These aren’t helping,” Angelus growled as he rose and stalked towards the shopkeeper. “Half of this crap is written in some archaic proto-demon cuneiform,” He threw the book at the stone fireplace. “And I don’t want to be rude, but I think the other half they just doodled.” Angelus crouched by the shopkeeper and stabbed him. “Now, don’t make me puncture the other lung, Reg, I just want to get some intel on this Beastmaster fellow. This _is_ an occult shop, right? Like, _your job_ , is to _help_ me.”

“I . . . don’t . . . know—” the shopkeeper wheezed painfully, straining to breathe with one lung.

Angelus jabbed a finger in his face. “Sure you do. He has a penchant for rains of fire, blotting out the sun,” Angelus started to punch him in the face repeatedly with each word. “Getting,” *Punch* “Inside,” *Punch* “Your” *Punch* “Head.”

 _“ **ANGELUS!** ”_ The mysterious voice roared inside Angelus’s head.

Angelus reared back on his feet and held his hands to his head. “Hello, volume!”

 _“I am not well pleased,”_ the mysterious voice shouted.

“I am not well deaf,” Angelus shot back.

 _“Do you think me blind, little man? That I don’t see every move before you decide to make it? Dare to seek me out again, and your insolence will be punished ten-fold,”_ the voice threatened.

“Yeah, what’re you going to do? Give me a migraine?” Angelus chuckled. “You ethereal types with your big, swinging omniscience. When push comes to shove, though, you gotta send some overgrown slag-heap to do your dirty work. Ooh, that’s real spooky.” Angelus looked at the empty floor where the shopkeeper _used_ to be. “Oh, that’s just great! You made me lose my shopkeeper.”

 _“This isn’t the way, my sweet. We should be friends, you and I,”_ the mysterious voice crooned seductively.

“No,” Angelus denied simply. “And I’ll tell you why. One, because, you know, I’m evil, so – the friends thing – that’s out. And two, if I did have any friends, they sure as hell wouldn’t be living inside my head!”

 _“Like you’re forced to live inside Angel’s?”_ the mysterious voice chuckled tauntingly. _“Because you’re the voice in there, aren’t you? Just beneath the surface, buried under all that goodness, fully conscious, fully aware, but trapped. Unable to move, or speak, powerless to act on your own desires. So thirsty, so helpless . . . it must be agony.”_

“I’m getting incredibly bored with this game,” Angelus growled, beginning to walk away.

 _“Then how about a round of show-and-tell?”_ Angelus paused out of curiosity, a personal vice he'd never been able to shake. _“Soul, soul, who has your soul?”_ The jar containing Angel’s soul appeared on a table in front of Angelus. _“Oh, right. Me.”_

Angelus lunged for the jar, grabbing at it, but his hands passed through it like it was a hologram.

“More smoke and mirrors,” Angelus snarled angrily.

 _“True, only a glamour, but I assure you, my sweet, at this very moment I hold the real thing in the palms of my ever so corporeal hands, and I will restore it if you don’t behave. I’ll put you back in your box, Angelus, and bury you so far inside Angel, you’ll never claw your way out again,”_ the mysterious voice threatened.

Angelus was not happy with this turn of events. He grimaced and looked at the ceiling. “All right. What do you want me to do . . .” he grit his teeth before grudgingly saying, “master?”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia Suite_   
**

Cordelia sat on her bed, holding the jar that contained Angel’s soul, smiling with wicked superiority.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

Fred and Gunn were loading tranquilizer guns behind the reception desk.

“Do you really think he’ll come back?” Fred asked.

“Measure twice, cut once,” Gunn replied, tossing a gun to her.

Fred stared at the gun in her hands. “Yeah, ’cause this worked so well the first time.”

“It’s _not_ your fault,” Gunn reiterated yet again.

“I should have had him,” Fred pouted.

“Fred, you got out of it alive, so—” Gunn started to say.

“Because he let me!” Fred cut him off. “And why not? All the little mouse could do was squeak at him.”

“Maybe next time Minnie will take a chunk out of his cheese,” Gunn said, looking at her. “Look, if you really think you did something wrong, don’t do it again. That simple.”

Fred met his eyes. “Is it?”

“Sometimes,” Gunn said softly as he turned away.

“Don’t. All we ever do is turn away,” Fred stopped him.

“Fred, I—” Gunn started to say.

“I know. Whatever Wes was feeling, whatever he thought might – I should have told him it was never going to happen. You think I don’t know that?” Fred said defensively.

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“But, it’s what you think, isn’t it? Or that something will happen between me and Angel again?” Gunn looked away and she apologized, “I’m sorry.”

Gunn shook his head. “It’s not about that anymore. You know that.”

Fred stepped closer. “All I know . . . is I miss you.” She stood right in front of him. “Can’t we just go back before any of this? I just want to go back, Charles. She leaned closer to him. “I just want to . . .” Fred lightly kissed him.

After a moment, Gunn broke away, looking anywhere but at her. “I, uh . . . I should do a sweep.”

“Yeah,” Fred agreed sadly.

Gunn took a tranquilizer gun and left the room while Fred watched him go, arms crossed, expression unhappy.

**************************

**  
_Somewhere in Los Angeles_   
**

Wesley and Faith trailed Spike.

“I remember what you did to me, Faith,” Wesley was saying. “The broken glass, the shallow cuts so I would remain conscious.”

“You think I’d hurt you again?” Faith asked.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’ve turned over a new leaf, found God, inner peace? We both know that isn’t true. You haven’t changed. You can’t,” Wesley goaded her.

“Wes . . .” Faith trailed off and threw up her hands in exasperation. _What the hell does he want from me? I apologized already._ She turned, walking away.

“Because you’re sick.” That made Faith stop walking. Wesley continued. “You’ve always been sick.” Faith turned toward Wesley. “It goes right down to the roots, rotting your soul. That's why your friends turned on you in Sunnydale, why the Watchers’ Council tried to kill you. No one trusts you, Faith. You’re a rabid dog who should’ve been put down years ago!” In a burst of anger, Faith violently pushed Wesley back against the chain link fence. She snatched the gun from him, drawing back to strike him with the flat of it, but stopped short. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Faith glared at him because he sounded pleased with himself. “It’s what you’ll need to beat him.”

Faith lowered the weapon, stepping back. “No.”

“You have to be willing to take it all the way, Faith,” Wesley said.

“I can’t risk killing Angel. Not after what he's done for me. There’s got to be another way.” Faith insisted before she walked away.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

Lorne lay on the couch, slowly regaining consciousness as the effects of the tranquilizer dart wore off.

“Oh, smacked in the noggin with a two-by-four wrapped in velvet. Yeah, that’s what it feels like,” Lorne said to himself as he rubbed his aching head.

Fred approached from behind the couch with a Sea Breeze, reaching over the back and handing it to him. “I am so, so beyond sorry.”

“Oh, go on. It’s the first good nap I’ve had since this apocalypse started. So what’d I miss?” Lorne asked, sitting up and sipping his drink.

“Angelus and his usual freak show,” Gunn replied.

“I see everybody still has their heads attached to their necks. The sanctuary spell must have done its thing?”

“Yeah. It’s working,” Gunn affirmed.

“Hey, one for the good guys,” Lorne faux cheered.

“And take two away,” Fred sadly admitted. “I let Angelus walk with Lilah’s book and everything Wolfram & Hart suckered out of your brain.”

Lorne frowned. “I was going to have those framed.”

“Vampire Moriarty strolls in waving the anti-mojo, mojo. Anybody would’ve done the same,” Gunn consoled.

“He had mojo?” Lorne asked, one brow arching like a question mark.

“Nojo.” Fred dangled Angelus’ fake charm in front of Lorne. “He waved this piece of junk in my face and I went all spinal-paralysis.”

Lorne looked at the charm and smirked. “Put the blame stick down, peaches. Maury’s been peddling these to tourists since L.A. had cable cars, honey. It fools the Bermuda shorts off of ’em every time.”

“Maury?” Gunn perked up.

“Yeah, he hangs his horns in a shop down on Olive. Why?” Lorne asked.

“Call Wes. Now,” Gunn told Fred.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Occult Bookstore_   
**

In a dimly lit, under-construction, but beautifully architected room, Faith and Wesley wandered tentatively amongst the columns and arches with guns poised. Fred had called with the location, but Wesley revealed they were already there by way of following Spike. If Wesley didn’t know better, he’d have thought learning they were one step ahead upset Fred because she wasn’t telling him anything new.

“Even if he got the fake hoodoo from this Maury guy, why would he hang around?” Faith asked.

“He wouldn’t, luv,” Spike said as he appeared out of nowhere. “You two really make for poor P.I.’s. I knew you were following me since I turned off the hotel’s street.”

“And you’re sure he’s here? You’ve been wrong before,” Wesley pointed out.

“Only because he doubled back before. He didn’t this time, Percy.”

As they walked forward through the shop, they discovered a creature lying dead on the floor, blood seeping from his body onto papers scattered all over the ground.

“Well, that’s Maury,” Spike observed.

“Hello, Spike. I see you brought company.”

Spike, Faith and Wesley turned to find Angelus standing behind them.

“A little birdie in my head told me you’d be here,” Angelus grinned. “Ooh. Isn’t this exciting?”

Faith shot at Angelus with her tranquilizer gun, but missed. Angelus kicked her in the stomach and she went flying back into a column, chipping some of the stone. Wesley cocked the shotgun, firing a round at Angelus, who ducked.

Spike lunged at Angelus and they crashed to the floor. Spike sat up and punched Angelus in the face, but Angelus grabbed Spike by his lapels and tossed the younger vampire off of him. Spike lunged at him again, but this time Angelus grabbed him in midair and tossed him over the side of the balcony. Spike plunged through the air and landed on a pile of cardboard boxes. Wesley used the distraction to shoot at Angelus again, but the vampire dodged aside.

“Gotta do better than that, Wes,” Angelus laughingly taunted. Wesley took another shot and missed. “Come on, I’ll give you one more.” Wesley aimed at Angelus’ face, but Angelus grabbed the barrel just as Wesley took the shot, managing to avoid having his face blown off. “Strike three.”

He grabbed Wesley and threw him over the balcony ledge as well, but Wesley didn’t have the luxury of a cardboard landing. He fell twenty feet down through scaffolding.

“Uh-oh.” Faith picked herself up off the ground and ran away. “Vampire with a gun!” Angelus cocked the weapon and shot at Faith. “I can see why she likes this thing,” Angelus observed. Faith tumbled down a staircase and Angelus followed her without a misstep. “Wow.” He pointed the gun at her. “You really have gone soft now, haven’t you? Hey, you remember that time you tried to get Angel to kill you because you felt all weepy over being such a bad little girl? Huh? Do you still feel that way?” Faith looked away. “Do you still want to die?”

“No,” Faith replied softly.

“What’s that?” Angelus asked curiously.

“No,” Faith repeated, louder.

“I can’t hear you,” Angelus taunted.

“No!” Faith yelled.

Angelus chambered a round then ejected the shell. “Too bad, because you’re gonna.” He continued to eject shells until the shotgun was empty. “But not like this.” Angelus smiled superiorly.

Faith kicked the shotgun out of Angelus’ hands then kicked at his feet. He jumped over the sweep of her leg while she flipped to her feet and delivered a flurry of punches.

“Looks like we got a live one,” Angelus teased. Faith kicked him and he retaliated with a punch to her face. “For now.” He spun, kicking her, and she stumbled away. “A little tired, sweetie? You wanna take a break?” Angelus kicked Faith with each word, rolling her across the floor, and she didn’t fight back. “Now, this is disappointing. You never used to bleed so easily.”

Faith crawled back up to her hands and knees. “Screw you.”

“Maybe after,” Angelus smirked. “I like my girls to lie still.” He called over to Wesley’s inert body. “Hey, buddy, how’s it goin’ in there?” Wesley didn’t respond. “Good old Wes. Always count on him to tackle a bad situation and make it worse. I mean, hey, look how you turned out. Then again, I guess he really didn’t have much to work with now.”

Faith chuckled humorlessly. “Save the head trip, GQ. Wes told me you’d try to get under my skin. Gave me just what I needed to scratch you out.” She coughed up a little blood.

“Oh ho. Don’t tell me. The rousing, stiff upper lip speech?” Angelus inquired. “Rah rah. Good over evil. Do what must be done. Hang in there, kitten, it’s almost Friday. Is that what the scraggly little ponce armed you with to fight the big, bad boogeyman?”

“Yeah, and this.” Faith hurled a knife at him, striking him in the chest. She got up, yanked the knife out of Angelus, then circled him warily, looking for opportunities to cause real damage. She sliced him, tossed the knife into the air, punched him, then caught the knife and slashed him again. He kicked her in the crotch, hurtling her across the room, then leapt into the scaffolding in one smooth move. Faith cast about, trying to determine where he’d gone.

“That hurt, baby,” Angelus said from the shadows. “I kinda liked it.” He chuckled. “How about you? There’s my girl. I knew she was in there somewhere, dying to come out and play again.”

Faith walked around, searching for him. “Shut up.”

“I know how it feels — forced to be someone you’re not,” Angelus continued from the shadows. “Hurts to the bone. You try to bury the pain, but you can’t make the hole deep enough, can you? No matter how much you dig, it’s still there; broken shards stabbing every time you take a breath, cutting you up inside. You know, there’s only one way to make the pain stop.” Angelus jumped down from the scaffolding behind her. “Hurt someone else.”

Faith turned, stabbing at him, but he grabbed her wrist. She lost her grip on the knife when Angelus kicked her up into the scaffolding. Angelus jumped up after her and Faith clung to the outside of the scaffolding, trying to avoid the fists raining down on her, but he finally connected and sent her across the room. He jumped, following her as she tried to get away from him, leaping from one level to another, but he caught up with her soon enough throwing her to the ground then jumping after her.

“Come on, Faith, you’re not even trying,” Angelus mocked as he punched her. “Or is that why you really came back, huh? Not enough to punish yourself in prison? Is that it? Still looking for someone to help beat the bad out of you?” He punched her again. “You know what the funny part is, darling? I could beat you death and it wouldn’t make a difference. Nothing will ever change who you are, Faith.” He kicked her in the face. “You’re a murderer,” he goaded, punching her. “An animal,” he sneered, punching her again. He grabbed her by the hair. “And you enjoy it.” He punched her harder. “Just like me.”

Enraged, Faith leapt to her feet and went after Angelus like a pit bull after a poodle. She punched and kicked him furiously until he was on the ground. Then she straddled him, beating him in the face again and again, blood flying.

“No!” She stopped hitting him and jumped back as if realizing he was working her like a marionette. “You’re wrong. I’m different now. I’m not like you.”

Angelus kicked Faith’s ankles, knocking her feet out from under her and dumping her on the ground near him. He darted behind her, grabbing her and slipping into his demon visage.

“You will be.”

Without further warning, Angelus sank his fangs into Faith’s neck, causing her to cry out in pain.


	14. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 62: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 12)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Occult Bookstore, Night_   
**

Without further warning, Angelus sank his fangs into Faith’s neck, causing her to cry out in pain. He took in gulps of her potent Slayer's blood that was a little different from Buffy’s. Buffy loved him when he drank from her, it was something he could taste in her blood and feel in her body. Faith, cared about Angel as a close friend, but her blood was only addictive on the same level as eating chocolate. And then – he tasted something different – wrong, and he released her, violently recoiling.

Angelus wiped furiously at his mouth, glaring at Faith. “What . . . did you do?”

**************************

**  
_Moments Earlier_   
**

_While Angelus and Wesley were facing off, Faith took the time to plan ahead._

_“Gotta do better than that, Wes,” Angelus laughed._

_Faith grabbed a hypodermic syringe from her boot._

_Wesley took another shot and missed. “Come on, I’ll give you one more.”_

_Faith stuck the needle in her arm and pressed the plunger until she injected the entire drug Wesley offered her earlier._

_Wesley aimed at Angelus’s face, but Angelus grabbed the barrel as Wesley fired a round, managing to avoid being shot. “Strike three.” He grabbed Wesley, throwing him over the balcony ledge._

**************************

**  
_Now_   
**

Angelus staggered to stand, struggling to remain on his feet. “You – you sp— You spiked . . .” Angelus tried to say before he collapsed, passing out.

Spike rolled over on his back on the cardboard, blinking as he looked up and saw Wesley resting on the pile of scaffolding, momentarily thinking him dead until he saw that his eyes were open and blinking.

“Faith? You okay?” Spike asked, his voice rough from a combination of the hard landing and dust caught in his throat.

Faith panted, her words slurring as she replied, “Kicked his ass.” Then she passed out.

Spike reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out his cell phone. Miraculously, it wasn’t broken. He blindly hit the speed dial for the hotel.

“Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless,” Gunn answered.

Spike closed his eyes. He’d never been so happy to hear Gunn’s voice. Fred would freak out, Lorne wouldn’t be much help, and Cordelia was laid up with a leg injury. “Gunn, we’re at Maury’s Occult Bookstore. We’ve got Angelus. Need you to come get us.”

“Sure, man. I’m on my way,” Gunn said. Spike hung up.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

Fred was researching at the reception desk when Gunn and a battered Spike came through the front door carrying an unconscious Angelus.

Fred looked up from her book when the doors opened. “Oh, my God! Angelus.”

Gunn and Spike carried Angelus down the stairs into the lobby, barely stopping to acknowledge Fred on the way to the basement.

“Pick up your tranq gun,” Gunn advised, in passing. “I don’t know how much time we have.”

“What happened?” Fred asked as she hurried over to them, gun in hand. “You just rushed out of here.”

“Spike called, I went,” Gunn shrugged. “I didn’t ask too many questions.”

“Where are Wesley and Faith?” Fred asked, looking between the two men.

Just then, Lorne walked in with a Sea Breeze he nearly dropped. “Well, what is all the – Aah! Angelus! He’s in the hotel!”

“Lorne, we need steel shackles,” Gunn ordered.

“There are shackles and leg irons from my tenure in the basement,” Spike informed him.

“Oh, uh, maybe we’re already aware of that,” Lorne said to himself.

“All I had was rope in the truck,” Gunn said, glaring at Spike.

“I told you we had Angelus. Is it my bloody fault you didn’t believe me?” Spike said defensively.

“Wesley and Faith,” Lorne interjected. “Where are they?”

“Get him downstairs,” Wesley barked.

“What happened to Faith?” Fred asked.

Wesley pushed through the entrance door carrying an unconscious Faith in his arms. “She captured Angelus.”

“I think it’s safe to say it was a group effort, Percy,” Spike put in.

“God, what did he do to her?” Fred asked with a grimace, looking at Faith’s body.

“Gunn?” Wesley prompted.

“We got it,” Gunn said, his tone dismissing Wesley as he and Spike headed downstairs to the basement.

“She looks not well,” Lorne observed.

“Help me with her,” Wesley said.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Hallway_   
**

Wesley carried Faith, her neck covered with a bloody bandage, down the hall to an empty room, Fred and Lorne accompanying them.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Gunn opened the cage door for Spike, who carried his Sire inside and laid him unceremoniously, but not rudely, on the floor.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Wesley lay Faith’s limp body down on the bed.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Gunn untied Angelus’ hands while Spike went to retrieve the set of shackles from the far wall on the opposite side of the room. He returned and fastened the steel shackles around Angelus’ wrists.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Lorne moved closer to get a better look at Faith, checking her eyes much as a doctor would, then he noticing her arm, where it was discolored from the self-administered injection of the drug Wesley had given her. Taken aback, Lorne turned to look at Wesley, who only stared straight ahead at Faith.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Spike and Gunn continued to secure Angelus in the cage, adding sturdy leg irons to the shackles.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Fred quietly entered the room carrying a bowl of water and a towel. She sat beside Faith and gently removed the bandage on the unconscious Slayer's neck, disturbed by the sight of the bloody gash left by Angelus. She silently congratulated herself on remaining calm and continued to dress the wound.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Spike and Gunn added heavy chains to the shackles and leg irons, exchanged a glance, then attached the chains to bolts mounted in the concrete wall.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Sitting beside Faith, Fred began cleaning Faith’s wounded neck then applied a fresh dressing.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Spike worked at assisting Gunn in fixing the last restraint on Angelus with a somewhat wistful expression on his face. It had been nostalgic to see his Sire in top form again, raising hell around the city, ranting at invisible entities aside.

Angelus twitched and mumbled, “Kill you . . . kill . . . you . . .”

Gunn and Spike both jumped to their feet in surprise, then stepped back, thankful to have gotten him restrained before he came around. Gunn pointed a tranq gun at Angelus anyway, just to be on the safe side.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

While Fred was attending to her wound, Faith twitched and mumbled, “Scratch you out—”

“She’s not making any sense,” Fred observed.

Lorne was normally a good-natured person who liked to think the best of every demon or human he encountered in his life, but right now he was infuriated at Wesley for what he had done to the poor girl lying comatose, for lack of a better term, on the bed.

Lorne stormed over to Wesley and, in a harsh whisper, demanded, “And speaking of sense, have you gone on permanent sabbatical from yours?! Tell me you _did not_ shoot that girl full of junk, and then _feed_ her to Angelus!”

“It was her choice. Faith knew the risks,” Wesley stated calmly, refusing to look the empathic demon in the eye.

“She couldn’t have!” Lorne debated angrily in a normal, louder voice. Fred glared at the two men for arguing so loudly that they would disturb Faith’s sleep, coma-like though it was. Lorne lowered his voice while he continued to read the riot act to the former Watcher. “Wesley, I know what that drug does to people, especially when they super-size the doses to make sure they really get the job done. And _you_ damn well know it too.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Hallway_   
**

Hearing the commotion downstairs, Cordelia left her room to investigate, quietly moving through the hotel in slippers that barely made a _whoosh-whoosh_ sound when they scuffed the threadbare carpet. She found the door to Faith’s room cracked open a little and stepped closer to eavesdrop.

“A coma?” Cordelia repeated disbelievingly. _Faith had snagged Angelus? Now she was in a coma?_ From the commotion she heard earlier she gathered that Gunn and Spike took him to the cage in the basement, and she assumed they were probably standing guard. She couldn’t very well go sojourning to the basement to see for herself when she was supposedly partially incapacitated with a serious limp. She didn’t think anyone would believe her if she told them she managed to hobble down the basement steps to make sure he was locked up.

When she heard movement in the lobby echo through the cavernous hotel, she made her way as quickly and quietly as possible back to her room before someone saw her strolling about without a hint of a limp. If Angelus really was caught and caged, she was determined to find out for herself and plan accordingly.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Spike left Gunn, armed with a tranquilizer rifle, to guard Angelus as he went upstairs, intending to visit Faith’s room. He was sure he smelled a faint trace of Cordelia’s scent near the door, but she was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged it off and went into Faith's room, where there were more important things to worry about. Spike leaned in the doorway separating the suite from the bedroom and gazed at Faith’s inert body. Wesley sat in a corner holding an icepack – courtesy of Fred – to his bruised head. Fred and Lorne stood near the bed, watching over Faith.

“How much of the stuff did you give her, Percy?” Spike asked with a hard, accusatory edge to his voice. He’d seen the effects of that drug firsthand and could only imagine how much of it Faith had shot into her system.

Fred crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Wesley. “Actually, I’d like to start with what exactly _was_ it, Wesley?”

“Orpheus,” Lorne softly answered for Wesley, who continued his silent vigil.

“Some kind of opiate?” Fred inquired.

“It’s a mystical drug,” Spike replied.

“Humans inject it, vampires feed off the humans and get high. Folks tried to deal it at Caritas – the only folks I ever banned from my club,” Lorne expounded.

“The ’vention,” Faith mumbled in her sleep.

“So, if ordinary humans do this junk and send vampires into orbit, Slayers jacked up on this must be like a rocket to Mars, right?” Fred asked as she looked between Spike and Lorne.

“That’s what makes it so dangerous. Orpheus isn’t entirely physical. It’s an enchanted drug,” Lorne told her.

“That, plus the attraction of biting, makes for some serious psychic psychedelia. And the more you take, the deeper you sink,” Spike added.

“It leads you down to hell,” Wesley said without emotion. “And abandons you there, screaming.”

“The Beastmaster has been blocking my access to Angelus’ mind of late, but now that he’s out for the count, maybe it’s backed off from trying to control him long enough for me to slip in and see what’s going on from his side,” Spike spoke aloud, to himself more than to anyone in the room.

“Bless your silent heart, carrotcake,” Lorne said, relieved.

Spike arched a scarred brow at him. “As long as you _never_ call me pastry names ever again.”

“No promises,” Lorne said, giving him the Boy Scout salute.

Spike went into the suite and sat in the arm chair, relaxing and closing his eyes. He gently felt along the edges of Angelus’ mind and was surprised to discover no barrier of any kind. He could still faintly sense Faith’s presence, but since he wasn’t tied to her like he was to his Sire, it was akin to her being out of his peripheral vision; similar to knowing someone was in the room without being able to see them. Spike saw Angelus’ memories with a bird’s-eye view.

**************************

_A ship pulled into the harbor, passing the Statue of Liberty. A sign read: UNITED STATES IMMIGRATION, ELLIS ISLAND, N.Y._

_“When was this?” Spike asked._

_“It looks like New York, 1902,” Angel replied._

_Spike mentally jumped out of his skin. “Bloody hell, Angel! Where’d you come from?”_

_“I’m still in the Muo-Ping jar I guess,” Angel postulated._

_“Why haven’t you spoken up ’til now, ponce?” Spike asked in agitation._

_“Being in a state of swirling smoke tends to be disorienting. I’ve tried to stay focused with little success. I don’t even know where my soul physically **is** at the moment,” Angel explained._

_“I thought you just said it was in the Muo-Ping?” Spike inquired._

_“That’s not what I meant, smart ass,” Angel growled._

_Spike shut up and watched the scene play out before him._

_Huddled masses of men, women, and children poured off of the ship. A long-haired Angel walked through the crowd which parted around him, leaving him a wide birth. Except Angelus – Angelus just stood there, facing Angel, not intending to move for him, but Angel walked right through him._

_“Hey!” Angelus yelled indignantly as he turned to watch Angel walk away. “What is **that** about?”_

_“You tell me,” Faith appeared beside him. “It’s your flashback.” Angelus charged at Faith, but passed through her as if she were composed of light and shadow. Faith chuckled. “You know what the definition of insanity is, baby? Performing the same task over and over and expecting different results. I learned that in murder rehab.”_

_Spike could see and hear Faith now from his vantage point of the scene. It was like watching a movie in the most amazing 3-D IMAX ever invented._

_“All right, Miss Blow-It-All. This is **my** flashback. Why are you in it?” Angelus snapped as he stalked away._

_Faith followed him. “I don’t know. Must be the magical side effects of my incredibly simple ruse.”_

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Fred had gone down to the lobby to immerse herself in research. She’d run across the Orb of Thesulah a lot, and Angel once told her in Pylea that Willow Rosenberg restored his soul in Sunnydale. She was beginning to believe it was the only option they had left. After finding a number in Angel’s rolodex, she picked up the reception desk phone and dialed.

“Hello?” a hyper teenage male voice answered.

“Hello? Is Willow Rosenberg there?” Fred asked.

“She’s busy right now,” the teenager told her.

“Can you get her please? We have an emergency down here, in L.A.” Fred insisted.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

“Are you getting anything, Spike?” Fred asked hesitantly.

“Angelus and Faith are bantering back and forth as they relive Angel’s good deeds. So far they’ve gone through 1902, and the 1920s. Oh, bloody hell, Peaches saved a soddin’ puppy from getting run over. Ponce.”

Lorne sat on the bed beside Faith, watching over her.

“There’s only one thing we can do for Faith now –” Wesley spoke up from his corner of the room.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

“We have to finish what she started,” Wesley declared.

“You mean, re-ensoul Angel?” Fred clarified.

“That’s all well and good, Percy, but the jar is missing. Angel’s voice popped into my head while I was in Angelus’ mind, so he’s still around, but he doesn’t know where the jar is.”

“That’s why I called in reinforcements,” Fred started to say.

At that moment, Willow walked in through the front entrance of the lobby. Sensing a human presence, Spike turned around and saw Willow standing on the entrance stairs with her well-remembered, endearing somewhat awkward stance.

“Did someone call for a witch?” Willow smiled hesitantly.

Wesley, Fred and Spike stared at Willow. She crossed the lobby to the reception desk and laid her purse, and an assortment of magical items, on the desk. “Did I come at a bad time?”

“Willow,” Wesley greeted with surprise.

“Hullo, Red,” Spike's salutation was filled with warmth.

“Hi, Willow,” Fred said, blushing beet red.

Willow walked up to Fred and smiled. “Hey Fred. It’s good to see you.” She glanced at Wesley. “Oh, and it’s the Marlboro Man, or at least his extra stubbly, mentally unstable, insomniac, first cousin of – for the love of Hecate, somebody stop me.”

Fred smiled. “It’s okay. I’m a yammerer from way back.”

“Fred called you?” Wesley asked--and then it hit him. “Of course, bring in the only living person to ever re-ensoul Angel.”

“She has a fresh brain and I thought she might see something we missed,” Fred explained.

“Oh, hearing the thoroughness of your research methodology,” Willow smiled at Fred. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Aw. Go on,” Fred giggled flirtatiously.

“Oh, bloody hell! Somebody put a stake in me! Can you two flirt another time? I don’t think Faith can stand to be in Angelus’ company for much longer. The way you two are going on, Faith will be dead from boredom running around Angelus’ mind reliving Angel’s good deeds,” Spike ranted.

“He’s right. We should probably start the debriefing,” Willow looked around. There was someone missing. “Where’s Cordelia?”

“Angelus shot her with a crossbow. She’s upstairs in her room,” Spike told her.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia was sitting in bed when Fred knocked on her door before escorting Willow into the room. Cordelia barely had time enough to hide the crystal she used in getting Angelus’ attention, although that had been a bust just recently.

“Hi there,” Willow said perkily.

Cordelia gave her a tight smile. “Long time, no see.”

Fred turned and left them in the room together. Willow sat on the bed beside Cordelia. “How’ve you been?”

“Higher power,” Cordelia answered flippantly. “You?”

“Oh, Ultimate evil,” Willow replied with more enthusiasm than Cordelia preferred. “But I got better.”

“Have you heard about Faith?” Cordelia asked, as if she were clueless.

Willow nodded. “Coma again. Some people seem destined for do-overs.”

“What about Angelus? Did you go down to see him?” Cordelia asked with genuine curiosity. It grated on her nerves, his obstinate refusal to answer her – or the Beastmaster’s summons.

“I’m way avoidy. Too many memories, and all of them lacking in the warm and fuzzy.” Willow shuddered exaggeratedly. “I’m just glad I don’t have to be in the same room as he is when I re-ensoul him.”

“Oh, do you really think you can pull it off?” Cordelia asked as she blindly searched under her blanket with as minimal movement as possible.

“Soul-in-the-body? It’s the first spell I ever learned,” Willow grinned. “I’m not about to forget that.”

Cordelia finally located and gripped the knife she had concealed beneath the blanket. “What about the Muo-Ping?”

“The jar holding Angel’s soul?” Willow sighed. “Therein lies our actual problem.”

“Stolen right out of our safe,” Cordelia remarked with faux regret. “And if we can’t get the soul out of the jar, we can’t put it back in Angel.”

“Yeah, question is: how do we get the soul out if we don’t know where the jar is?” Willow pondered.

“And apparently the thing is impervious to magic,” Cordelia told her.

“Yeah, I know. When Fred called, I tried a standard locator spell using a map and got nothing,” Willow admitted sadly.

“Right.” Cordelia eased up on the death grip she had on the knife under the blanket. “Plus, Wesley’s shaman says there’s no way to extract the soul from a distance.”

“Soul trapped in a glass jar, impervious to magic. It’s complicated,” Willow commented even as her brain was coming up with solutions.

"Like a Gordian Knot," Cordelia agreed.

Willow suddenly brightened at that. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Cordelia grabbed the knife under the blanket again. “I doubt it.”

Willow jumped to her feet in excitement. “We use the simplest solution; we just break the jar!”

Cordelia gestured at the nightstand farthest from her. “Can you hand me that drink?” she asked, hoping to distract the redhead.

Willow walked backwards toward the door. “That way we don’t have to magic the soul out. We can just break the glass around it!”

“Great idea,” Cordelia said impatiently. “I’m _really_ thirsty.”

“And then Angel’s soul is still released into the ether, and – and there’s something called Delothrian’s Arrow. We don’t even need to know where the target is.” Willow opened the door and grinned excitedly. “Cordy, this is fantastic! We’re gonna get him back!” and with that cheery proclamation, Willow fairly bounced out of the room.

Cordelia threw the knife just as Willow left the room. The blade embedded in the wooden panel where Willow's head had been just a few seconds before.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Lorne sat on the bed looking after Faith, who was still essentially unconscious and unresponsive.

“Don’t you worry, princess. It’ll all be over soon,” Lorne said aloud, mostly trying to reassure himself. “I-I’ve seen lots of girls go through just what you’re going through now.” After a moment, he started to sing, “ _There’ll be another song for me / and I will sing it / Oh, there’ll be another dream for me / someone will bring it._ ”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia held the glowing crystal in her hand, trying to contact Angelus.

“Hear me, Angelus, heed my warning. Awake at once and return from the darkness.” When she received no answer to any of her orders, she grew impatient and huffed, “Or just lay there and let that redheaded meddler put your soul back. _Whichever_."

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Wesley and Willow were preparing a spell. There was a bubbling jar in front of Willow.

“Look, it’s working,” Willow observed with a smile.

“I thought Delothrian’s Arrow was used to protect good magicks,” Wesley remarked thoughtfully.

“It is,” Willow confirmed.

“So, how can you use it to break the jar? The Muo-Ping is a sacred object. It’s holy,” Wesley pointed out.

“It’s glass, therefore crunchable,” Willow explained. “The sacred’s what’s inside. ‘All life a container –’”

“‘–For the heart of all life.’” Wesley finished. “You’ve studied the Daharim.”

“Well, it would have to be something specific. There’s lots of jars in the world – can’t shatter them all. I mean, you could, but good things come in jars; peanut butter, jelly, those two-headed fetal pigs at the natural history museum.” Wesley just looked at her. “Come on, everybody loves fetal pigs,” she teased, trying to get a rise out of him.

Wesley leaned forward, his forearms on the reception desk. “Sorry. I think my sense of humor is trapped in a jar somewhere.”

“It does seem like you’ve given in to the grumpy side of the force,” Willow acknowledged.

“A lot’s happened, and I don't just mean Angelus. I’ve been – I’ve changed. I’ve seen a darkness in myself. I’m not sure you’d even begin to understand –”

“I flayed a guy alive and tried to destroy the world,” Willow told him frankly.

“Oh,” Wesley was at a momentary loss for words. “So–” He stood up straight, avoiding direct eye contact.

“Darkness,” Willow nodded. “Been there.”

“Yeah. Well, I never flayed–” Wesley grimaced, sickened by the image of a flayed man brought to mind. “I did have a woman chained in a closet,” he admitted weakly.

“Hey,” Willow acknowledged as if they were in some kind of ‘Formerly Evil Support Group’.

Wesley shook his head. “That doesn’t compare.”

“No,” Willow disagreed. “That’s dark. You’ve been to a place.”

“You seem exactly the same as when I left. No other major changes I’m not up on?” Wesley asked.

Willow shrugged. “Just little things.” After a moment of awkward silence, she said, “So, uh, Fred. What’s her story?”

**************************

_Angel crouched next to the donut shop clerk._

_“God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Angel apologized profusely._

_The clerk died from the blood loss, and Angel stood up, backing away, staring at the clerk._

_“So who’s your big hero now?” Angelus taunted._

_“Wasn’t even his fault. God, does the guy gotta pay for everything?” Faith wondered out loud._

_“Choices, little girl. The ones you make with your heart of hearts.” They watched Angel move to the door, but he stopped and locked it instead. Angelus grinned. “Uh-oh. What’s gonna happen?”_

_“He won’t,” Faith denied what she thought she was about to witness._

_Angel walked slowly back to the clerk as if his feet were making the decision to return against his will._

_“I’m deep in, Faith,” Angelus whispered near her ear. “Soul or no soul.”_

_Angel slipped into his demon visage and lifted the clerk._

_“Angel!” Faith yelled to stop what he was about to do, but Angel sank his fangs into the clerk’s neck. Faith grimaced. “Ugh.” She felt something drip down her neck and reached up. When she pulled her hand away, she saw blood on her fingers. “He was going to save him.”_

_“Or, did he choose to be a little slow on the draw?” Angelus countered. “Whoops! Dinner by armed robbery. Look at him, Faith. You’re a murderer. You know just how good that blurry line tastes.” He watched her expression as his words sank in. “You didn’t think my hell was private, did ya?”_

_Angel screamed._

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Spike was watching Wesley and Willow preparing their spell when he suddenly heard Angel scream. He looked around reflexively, but saw nothing.

_Angel?_

_I’m fine. Have you been watching the memory tour?_

_I’ve been popping in on it every so often. I can’t believe you **really** like Barry Manilow. You are such a ponce._

_So, you didn’t see me kill the clerk at the doughnut shop?_

_One of your better acts while having a soul if you ask me._

_Figures you would approve of that. I was really distraught about what I did back then._

_Of course you were. Big on the whole self-flagellation gig, you are._

Spike silently left the lobby, going upstairs.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Lorne dabbed away the tears from Faith’s face as Spike walked into the room and leaned against the doorjamb between the ensuite and the bedroom.

Lorne didn’t look up, but he heard Spike enter the room. “She’s in the barrens now. They cry for a while. Quiet mostly. Like they’re letting go of everything that meant something.”

“Angelus showed her what Angel was capable of, even with a soul. How long ’til she – ?”

“Not long,” Lorne replied.

Hearing footsteps, Spike turned his head to see Wesley entering the room.

“Took a gamble on her, Percy,” Spike observed. “Now she’s pretty much at Angelus’ mercy. He’s giving her the grand tour of Angel’s greatest hits.”

Wesley stared at Faith with an expression that could be labeled as guilt. “It’s time.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Wesley and Spike descended the steps to find Fred walking around the lobby in a circle bearing a lit candle and ringing a bell.

“Did Fred go sack of hammers again?” Spike asked casually.

Willow touched Fred’s chin, lifting it higher, and smiled. “You’re good. Good bells.” She turned and moved back to the reception desk where Gunn leaned, watching the spectacle. “Okay,” Willow said more to herself than him. “Now, all I got to do is contact the spirit world, harness the Delothrian ebb, and focus it through my little marble of doom here.” She held out a small metal ball. “And we’ll restore the Muo-Ping’s entropic equilibrium.”

“The jar goes smash?” Gunn translated.

“Smash-o-crash,” Willow confirmed.

“I’ll be downstairs in case Angelus wakes up,” Spike announced as he left the room.

“Okay,” Willow acknowledged the departing figure.

Wesley approached Willow. “Are you ready?”

Willow nodded. “Should be a snap.”

Suddenly, a bolt of orange energy impacted Willow, sending her sliding across the floor. Gunn drew his weapon and looked around for the culprit, but found nothing.

 _“Stay your hand, witch! You will not interfere with what must come to pass,”_ a mysterious voice boomed.

Willow got to her feet and covered her ears with her hands. “Invadoria disparu!”

 _“You think to banish me?”_ the mysterious voice laughed evilly.

“There’s somebody in my head,” Willow announced.

 _“As long as the soul is under my protection, it will never be freed,”_ the mysterious voice proclaimed.

Willow looked up and yelled, “Vetsche invadoria disparu!”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Willow’s counter-spell caused Cordelia to rear back.

“I’th bid my thongue,” a shocked Cordelia exclaimed to herself.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

“It’s the dead Beast’s master,” Wesley explained. “He’s enormously powerful. He contacted Angelus the same way.”

“He wants to stop us from getting the soul,” Fred added.

Willow suddenly looked up, revealing obsidian-black eyes. She held out her hand and the metal marble floated before her, beginning to glow. “Open the window. Fill this stone. Inside, outside. Two made one.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia’s brows furrowed in anger. “You want to go, Glinda? We’ll go.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Willow was knocked down by another bolt of energy from the Beastmaster.

“Are you sure she can handle it?” Gunn asked skeptically.

Willow, still sporting black eyes, focused on the ball in front of her. “Alesh ashtoreth!”

The ground began to shake violently.

“I think she can hold her own,” Wesley observed, striving to keep his balance on the bucking floor.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Lorne looked around when the building shook, but continued speaking to Faith. “It’s okay, Faith. It’s okay. You just wait and see. They’ll get Angel back and –” It was like he was trying to convince himself of the assurance. “It’ll all be worth it. It’ll all –”

He was cut off when Faith gasped and sat bolt upright.

**************************

_Faith found herself in a dark alley full of trash._

_“It’ll all be worth it. Is that what you try to tell yourself, Faithy?” Angelus taunted. “Is that the nasty little lie that kept those thighs nice and warm in your prison bunk?”_

_Faith looked around, searching for Angelus. She could still hear him, but she couldn't see him. “You kiss your mama with that mouth?”_

_Angelus appeared behind her, lying on the ground. “No, but I ate her with it.” He suddenly rose to his feet without bending his body. “And now for a poem. ‘Faith goes gently into that good night.’ You’re fading fast, baby. I can feel it.”_

_“All the same, I hear this holler in the distance,” Faith smirked._

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Defying the Beastmaster, Willow continued to the cast the spell. “Semsa nahl eresh a’lahm!”

**************************

_“Tells me you’re about to get what’s coming to you,” Faith told Angelus._

_“Or not. I’ve got friends in high places.” A sound caught their attention and they looked to see Angel stumble around, knocking over garbage cans. Angelus growled. “ **Him** not being one of them.”_

_Angel tracked something scuttling through the trash, lunged and snatched up a rat, hungrily sinking his fangs into it and draining it dry in a moment._

_“Ugh,” Faith grimaced. “When is this?”_

_“When isn’t it?” Angelus replied with annoyance. “Twenty years after that stupid doughnut shop, and his fingers never smelled of anything but rat! ‘I’m so sorry. I give up. I’m going to live in a sewer!’”_

_“He’s paying for what he did,” Faith defended Angel._

_“He’s hiding from what he is – which may be a big Psych 101 revelation for you, cupcake, but I already know this crap, so why do I have to go through it again?”_

_“Maybe ’cause it’s not about you,” Angel finally acknowledged them. He stood up. “Jackass.”_

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

The ground shook in the hotel. Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Willow stood in the lobby.

“Do you feel that?” Wesley asked rhetorically.

“There’s something evil in the hotel,” Gunn replied.

"You think?" Willow commented.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia's eyes were rolled over, white showing as she chanted in front of the Muo-Ping.

“Seiza jai n’hast engai . . . Seiza jai n’hast engai . . .”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Spike opened the door to the cage and slipped inside, cautiously closing the door behind him. He stood still, glancing at the ceiling and wondering how well constructed the Hyperion was, when the ground shook under his feet.

“That's a lot of fireworks just to restore your soul, Angel,” Spike remarked to himself as he leaned against the bars, gazing at Angelus, who was still restrained on the cot against the wall.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

An apparition of a huge demonic head floated above the group, growling and shrieking.

“What the hell is that?” Gunn asked anxiously.

“Ignore it,” Willow ordered, her voice strained as she concentrated on her spell. Addressing the glowing metal ball in front of her, she told it, “Find your target. Leave my side.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia still sat in front of the Muo-Ping jar, speaking to herself.

“Okay then. Huge floaty head not enough to scare you? Then why don’t we try –”

In an instant, the glowing metal ball Willow sent on an errand of destruction dove straight for the Muo-Ping, but Cordelia threw up a hand to stop it, concentrating intensely. “Now she is on my last nerve!”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

“Geth na haroth castellum tol,” Willow chanted.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Cordelia devoted her entire attention to keeping Willow’s magic marble from getting to the jar.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

“Break the glass,” Willow instructed the marble. “Let loose the soul!”

Fred looked around. “Where’s Gunn?”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Gunn grabbed the door knob to Cordelia's room, intending to make sure she was okay, but the knob refused to turn and the door held fast against his shoulder, as if it was barricaded from the other side.

Pounding on the door, Gunn shouted, “Cordelia! Are you okay?”

The tumult of noise startled Cordelia out of her concentration. “Ah!” she shouted in angry dismay as the marble broke the Muo-Ping, releasing Angel’s soul into the ether. Cordelia grimaced when she heard glass shatter. “Oh, shit.”

**************************

_Angel, Angelus and Faith were still in the alley. Angel was filthy, covered in dirt and grime, with a seventies, Meat Loaf hairstyle he did not wear well._

_“I don’t believe this!" Angelus was incredulous. “You’re the one behind this whole true-Hollywood sob-story?”_

_“Angel, it’s good to see you,” Faith greeted with relief. “Hating the hair,” she added, and he chuckled._

_“Faith, why are you still here?” Angel asked._

_“Just waiting to see this pervert get stuffed back into the deep, crazy ground he came from,” she explained._

_“Then what? After that, what happens?” Angel asked._

_Angelus interrupted their exchange with a kick to Faith's middle, knocking her down._

_“Probably something like that,” Angelus inserted flippantly. “I have a feeling the rules changed.”_

_“She’s not the one you’re after,” Angel countered, glaring at his demonic alter-ego._

_“No kidding, rat-boy. The Slayer will just be gravy once I finish you off,” Angelus said._

_“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” Angel and Angelus simultaneously said to each other. And after a moment of tension-filled glaring – they attacked._

_Between flurried punches and kicks, Angel yelled, “Faith, get up! Are you listening?”_

_“Angel, I’m dying,” Faith apologized weakly._

_“Yeah,” Angel remarked as he continued battling his alter ego. “It’s a lot easier than redemption, huh?” He kicked Angelus._

_Angelus caught hold of Angel by the neck. “Always so concerned with the human condition.” He hurled Angel down the alley. “It’s no big mystery, man. They suffer, they die. That’s what they’re here for.”_

_Angel jumped to his feet and lunged at Angelus. “I’m not perfect Faith.” He punched Angelus several times. “Even with a soul, I’ve done things I wished a thousand times over I could take back.”_

_“Yeah, like those Manilow concerts,” Angelus snarled and flung Angel across the alley, into a cluster of trash cans that crashed and clattered to the pavement under the impact. “Son of a bitch!”_

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_   
**

Gunn finally burst into the room, pushing away the barricade of furniture from the door.

“Cordelia?!” Gunn inquired with obvious worry.

Cordelia smashed Gunn over the head with a ceramic vase from behind, shattering the vase.

When Gunn turned around sporting an annoyed expression rather than a crushed skull, she dissolved into apologies. “Oh, Gunn! I’m so sorry. I thought it came back!” Cordelia burst into crocodile tears. “That horrible floaty head!”

“Did it hurt you?” Gunn asked suspiciously.

“I was nearly killed!” Cordelia shrieked melodramatically.

Gunn looked her over. “Physically, you seem just fine to me.”

Cordelia’s expression changed to that of infuriated frustration at being unable to manipulate him.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Fred, Wesley, and Willow were lighting more candles and incense in the lobby.

Fred looked around as if she were searching for something. “So, now Angel’s soul is just floating around out there?”

“Yeah, until I can channel it into the Orb of Thesulah,” Willow explained.

“I wonder where Charles disappeared to,” Fred wondered.

“I’m sure he only went to check on Cordelia,” Wesley assured her.

“Gunn is fine,” Willow agreed as she handed Fred an open book. “Here.” She grabbed her book off of the reception desk and turned back to the triangle their bodies created around the Orb of Thesulah. Addressing Fred, she said, “Ready when you are.”

Fred read the passage Willow had highlighted in yellow. “Quod perditum est invenietur.”

Willow read her passage next. “Nisi mort. Nisi al finitei. Te invoc, spirit al trecerii.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Spike stood guard over Angelus’ unconscious body.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Lorne stood sentry beside an unconscious Faith.

**************************

_While Angel and Angelus fought, Faith lay unconscious against the alley wall._

_“Faith, wake up!” Angel yelled between punches._

_Faith awoke, groggy. “I’ve rolled the bones. You for me.”_

_Angel punched Angelus, knocking him down, then walked toward Faith. “I used to think that way. That there’d be a point when I’d paid my dues.”_

_Angelus lunged out of nowhere, knocking down Angel from behind. “Does anybody notice a battle with your alter ego going on here?!”_

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

In the lobby, Willow continued the spell intended to re-ensoul Angel. “Te implore doamne. Nu ignore accasta rugaminte lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-I va transporta sufletul la el.”

**************************

_Angel and Angelus continued fighting in the alley. Angel knocked Angelus into a pile of garbage then hastened over to Faith, holding her in his arms._

_“Faith, listen to me, you saw me drink. It doesn’t get much lower than that, and I thought I could make up for it by disappearing.”_

_“I did my time,” Faith said weakly._

_“Our time is never up, Faith. We pay for everything,” Angel declared with conviction._

_“It hurts,” Faith admitted softly._

_“I know. I know,” Angel acknowledged sympathetically._

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Willow continued to chant over the Orb of Thesulah. “Este scris aceasta putere este dreptul poporuil meu de a conduce.”

**************************

_“Get up!” Angel ordered. “You have to get up now, Faith. You have to fight. I need you to fight! Do you understand what I’m saying?”_

_Angelus slipped up behind Angel, smashing him across the back of his head with a metal pipe, rendering him unconscious._

_“What won’t I miss?” Angelus asked aloud. “The moralizing? Soul’s already in the ether, boyo. I can smell it. How about I send it off to that big puppy rescue in the sky?”_

_“Arf arf, psycho,” Faith interrupted his bravado._

_Angelus spun around and found Faith standing behind him. “Faith,” he acknowledged with a chuckle. “Getting back in the game?”_

_“I guess I am,” Faith replied._

_Angelus snarled and swung the pipe at Faith, but she disappeared before he made contact. “Hey!” he yelled indignantly._

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Faith’s Suite_   
**

Faith’s eyes snapped open and, without missing a beat, she sprang off of the bed and ran out of the room.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

“Asa sa fie, acum,” Willow chanted.

**************************

_Angelus and Angel began to glow, and as the glow around each grew larger, they melded and began to combine into a single being._

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Basement_   
**

Spike perked up when he heard Angel mumbling tiredly. “I need you to fight.”

Spike crossed the cell in two steps and sat on the edge of the cot. “Angel. Wake up, ponce.”

Spike looked up when he heard someone running down the stairs. Faith rushed over and threw herself against the cage door almost falling through the door when it opened.

“What’s going on with you?” Spike asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Willow put his soul back. Angel told me to wake up and fight,” Faith explained.

“I think he meant to get out of your coma and continue to live your life fighting the good fight. Not break your fool neck, running down here like hellhounds are chasing you.”

They both turned to look when they heard rushed footsteps on the stairs. Lorne appeared, closely followed by Fred and Wesley. “She’s alive. It’s a miracle!” Lorne exclaimed.

Suddenly Angel woke up with a start that nearly tumbled Spike off of the cot and onto the floor.

“Angel?” Faith inquired.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Angel groaned.

“Welcome back to the land of here and now, mate,” Spike grinned cheekily, busily fussing with the locks of Angel's bonds. The second Spike released his wrists from the shackles, Angel grabbed Spike and kissed him as if he hadn’t seen Spike in centuries.

Spike chuckled. “As great as that was, Angel, I don’t think your pets wanna see us shag right here, even if we've got the party favors.” He jingled the chains to illustrate his point.

Angel smiled, taking the key from Spike and using it to free his ankles.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Courtyard_   
**

Angel and Spike leaned against the wrought iron railing of the terrace, enjoying the night air. It smelled like freedom to Angel, who’d been locked in a cage, for all he could remember, weeks.

“I know we haven’t seen much of each other for a while, but from what Willow told me, they need all the support they can get on the Hellmouth,” Angel told him.

“Screw the Hellmouth. I heard what Willow said, too. They have a bunch of wannabe Slayers up there. They don’t need a vampire in their chix-mix. Besides what about the Beastmaster? You can’t expect me to bow out of fighting whatever that is to help a bunch of little girls learn how to be Slayers,” Spike argued.

“As far all we know is that the Beastmaster is incorporeal,” Angel countered. “Until we can get it to manifest, the best place for you is helping in Sunnydale. I know you, Spike. You need something physical you can fight.”

“You invite me to move here permanently then skidaddle when the Big Bad comes a knocking, leaving me to babysit my insane Sire, and when we get you back for a happy ending, innuendo intended, you tell me to sod off again?”

“I _do_ still want you to live here permanently. **_If_** you remember, I said you ought to close up the mansion back in Sunnydale and move here. Now is your opportunity to do that. Go back to Sunnydale, pack up all of your stuff, and send it down here. Meanwhile, help out Buffy when you can,” Angel elucidated.

They both turned to look when the door opened and Faith walked outside.

“Hey,” Faith greeted. She leaned forward on the railing on the other side of Angel.

“How are you feeling?” Angel asked.

“Like I did mushrooms and got eaten by a bear,” Faith smirked. "Bad mushrooms and a worse bear."

“That about sums it up,” Angel acknowledged.

“Yep,” Faith nodded.

“And now you’re going to Sunnydale,” Angel said.

“I think I prefer the bear, but the way Willow talks it up, that’s where I’m needed,” Faith rationalized.

“Never stop fighting,” Angel reiterated his earlier comment.

“Hey,” Faith smiled and she bumped his shoulder. “I was going to, but someone got all pep-talky on me.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you – our little brain tour notwithstanding,” Angel said regretfully.

Faith smiled. “Another time.”

Angel stood up. “I have a lot to thank you for.” He looked over at Spike. “Both of you.”

“Well, that vice is plenty versa,” Faith said, speaking for herself. “Don't get me started, it’s only going to lead to hugging and warm, snuggly feelings. Next, you'll be asking me for relationship advice –” she shrugged and smiled.

“Right,” Angel agreed. “We can’t have that.”

The three of them walked back inside the hotel.

Gunn perked up when he saw Faith. “You headed out?”

“Yeah, no tears, big guy,” Faith quipped, and gave Gunn a high five.

“Nah, I’m good. Cordelia had a little scare upstairs and I missed out on the big man here getting his soul back,” Gunn said gesturing to Angel.

Faith turned to the former Watcher. “Wes.”

“Faith,” Wesley nodded.

“See. Brits know how to say goodbye,” Faith observed. “Angel here wanted a hug.”

“Yeah, but I figured it'd go from a hug to a kiss, and then – who knows?” Angel added, getting a grin and shake of the head from Faith and making Spike snicker as he went upstairs.

“That’s pretty much it,” Wesley confirmed.

Fred walked out of Angel’s office with Willow, who had a book in her hands. “I think that volume’s outdated,” Fred was saying. “You’d know better than me, but there’s some interesting stuff about Hellmouths. It might help.”

“This is great,” Willow said as she flipped through the book.

Everyone had a knowing look on their faces as Fred blushed. “I have to say, someday I’d love to bend your ear about the Pergamum Codex. I-I think some of the really obscure passages are actually Latin, translated from a demonic tongue, and they’re kind of a hoot.” She giggled. “All this stuff about Bacchanals and spells and – actually, I think it’s probably funnier in Latin. You know how that is sometimes.”

Willow gave her an uncomfortable smile. “I’m seeing someone.”

“Time goes by, Will,” Faith prompted the witch.

Spike came downstairs with a duffel bag of clothes. “Are you two ready to go, yet?”

Willow glanced at Spike and then said, “Yeah, okay, Good. Wagons west. See you guys.”

“Willow –” Angel trailed off.

Faith smirked. “He’s going to tell you how much he owes you.”

“Aw, don’t mention it. I got a Slayer out of the deal, so we’re even-Steven.” She hugged Angel. “I’ll tell Buffy you said hi.” She looked back at Spike. “Why is he going with us, again?”

“He’s going up to close up the mansion and move down here permanently, _after_ he’s done helping you out with the latest crisis on the Hellmouth,” Angel explained.

Willow nodded and followed Spike and Faith to the front door of the hotel where she stopped and turned around, “Oh, um, next time you guys resurrect Angelus, call me first, okay?”

They watched Willow, Faith, and Spike walk out the front door. Angel sighed and turned to face the group.

“So, we’re back,” Angel announced.

“It would seem,” Wesley agreed.

“Look, I know things have been –” Angel started to say.

He was cut off as the mysterious voice that tormented Angelus echoed through the hotel, _“If this is the speech about how the worst is behind you, you are dead wrong.”_


	15. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 63: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 13)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_   
**

“So, we’re back,” Angel announced.

“It would seem,” Wesley agreed.

“Look, I know things have been –” Angel started to say, but was cut off as the mysterious voice that tormented Angelus echoed through the hotel.

“ _If this is the speech about how the worst is behind you, you're dead wrong._ ”

Everyone looked around at each other to verify if they'd all heard the Beastmaster’s voice, and by their expression they knew that all of them had.

“Okay, the next order of business is to get rid of the Beastmaster,” Angel announced.

“Oh my God, did anyone else hear that?” Cordelia asked anxiously, running down the staircase. Everyone observed her nonexistent limp, and Cordelia noticed them noticing, saying the first thing that sprang to mind, “Yeah, I got better – but I still feel a twinge now and then," she quickly added. They continued to stare at her. “I haven’t been hiding or anything," she protested defensively. “It’s just that with the Beast and his psycho master, then Faith and Willow and all of that dramarama, not to mention –”

“Angelus,” Angel finished for her.

“Yeah. Everything’s just been so Clash of the Evil Titans around here that I didn’t want to be a distraction,” Cordelia explained.

Lorne walked in from outside where he'd been saying his farewells to Willow, Faith and Spike. “I see you’ve come out of hibernation,” he observed upon seeing Cordelia, continuing into the kitchen to make himself a drink.

**************************

**  
_A Park in Los Angeles, Night_   
**

A man stood alone in a plaza while a fountain bubbled behind him, looking around nervously as people passed him by. When he turned around for perhaps the hundredth time, Gwen Raiden stood behind him.

“How’d you do that?” he asked, struggling to sound unimpressed.

Gwen shrugged. “I’m a thief.” As if that explained the nature of the universe. “Got my stuff?” The man's eyes darted around nervously and she rolled her eyes. “Would you stop it?”

“Stop what?” he asked with obviously guilty, wide eyes.

“Acting shifty. You’ve never done this before, have you?” Gwen laced her right arm through his and started to casually stroll. “Let me give you a tip, sugar bear. There are over eight million people in this city, and as far as anyone can tell, we’re just two of ’em. Just an average, boring couple nobody will give a second look as long as you stop acting shifty.”

The man stopped walking, breaking away from her and looking into her eyes. “Look, these are very powerful people that you’re going up against. If they catch you, they’ll kill you –”

Gwen cut him off. “I know the risks, but I’m going in there with or without your help. And I’m not coming out without Lisa. She pulled an envelope out of her back pocket. So, are we going to dance, or what?” She slipped the envelope into the man’s breast pocket.

The man handed Gwen a manila envelope. “That’s everything. Security, blueprints, background.”

Gwen gave him a smile of encouragement. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“So, is it that obvious?” the man laughed at himself. “That I’ve never done –”

“Trench coat,” Gwen said, “Definite rookie mistake.”

“So, I should . . . dress more like you?” Feeling pretty suave right now, he sidled up to her. “You know, maybe when this is all over, you and I could –”

Suddenly, Gwen was struck by lightning and flew back from the impact. The man ran away as Gwen shook off the blast, struggling to regain her bearings. She spotted her contact taking off in the opposite direction. “Really, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Fred and Lorne sat together on the couch talking to Wesley and Gunn, who stood near the reception desk.

“Do we know where our recently re-ensouled leader is?” Lorne inquired.

“He’s probably sulking since Spike isn’t here,” Wesley suggested.

As if on cue, Angel walked out of his office, into the lobby. “I don’t sulk. I’ve been thinking about the past few weeks – and Angelus.”

Fred gave him a sympathetic look. “Angel, you can’t feel guilty for anything Angelus did.”

“I know. I knew the risks,” Angel replied unapologetically. “We all did.” He looked at Wesley. “And some of us paid a higher price than others. Angelus didn’t kill Lilah; she was already dead, killed by the Beast.”

Wesley sighed. Pain, grief and confusion etched upon his tribulations-roughened features.

“Well, that’s,” Fred thought about it, “less terrible?”

Angel went on. “There’s no excuse for what Angelus did to her, but I’m sorry for your loss.” Wesley looked down and Angel turned to the others. “We’ve got a pressing matter: destroying the Beast’s master. Lorne, you’re –”

“Reliable as a cheap fortune cookie?” Lorne offered with self-deprecation.

“I was going to say: a guy with good contacts,” Angel replied dryly. “There have to be rumblings around town about this new player. Talk to your sources. See if anyone knows anyone who might know anything.”

“I’m your demon,” Lorne accepted the order, raising his glass in acknowledgment.

“Right,” Angel turned back to Wesley. “See if we still have anything left on the Beast; assuming you brought back everything Angelus took to the Occult bookstore.”

He addressed Gunn next. “I want you to sit tight for now. It never hurts to have some muscle on deck.” Gunn glared at Angel for being benched.

“In the meantime, there has to be a reason why the Beastmaster wanted Angelus. I’m going to piece together everything I know – things he said to me when he was in my head, everything he’s done. Maybe something will –”

“Strike you?” Everyone turned around to see Gwen standing on the back entrance landing. “Careful what you wish for.”

Fred stood up and crossed her arms. “Well, look who’s back now that the lights are on.”

“Aw, missed you too, babe,” Gwen retorted sarcastically.

“Gwen it’s really not a great time for a social call. We’re pretty swamped. You know, uh, apocalypse,” Angel told her.

“Yeah. Thing is, there’s a girl,” Gwen told them. “She’s in trouble. It’s what you guys do, right?”

“Yeah?” Angel agreed with reservation.

“So, I’m in a jam which I can't get out of alone. I need someone suave, a guy who can handle himself in a tight spot,” Gwen explained.

Angel swaggered for a moment. “Gwen, I’d love to help –”

“I meant him,” Gwen cut him off, gesturing at Gunn, whose attitude at that suggested he was the obvious choice and why hadn't Angel realized that.

**************************

**  
_A Rural Highway Outside Sunnydale_   
**

Spike was driving with Willow in the passenger seat and Faith napping in the back seat. Spike had his eyes on the road in front of him, but wasn’t prepared for a girl falling out of a pickup in front of them, and rolling across the pavement. He slammed on the brakes which sent Faith rolling forward against the front seat.

Faith sat up and glared at Spike. “What the hell, blondie?”

The second the car screeched to a halt, Willow jumped out and ran to the girl’s side. Spike and Faith got out and trotted more cautiously toward the fallen girl.

“Are you okay?” Willow asked the girl. “Can you hear me?” She rolled the girl onto her back. “Can you talk?” Willow looked up at Faith. “She’s bleeding badly. We have to get her to a hospital.”

“Home Sweet Sunnyhell,” Spike observed.

Unfazed by the injured girl, Faith added, “Yep. Guess we’re back in Sunnydale.”

**************************

**_Sunnydale Memorial Hospital_ **

Spike dropped off Willow and Faith with the girl, at the hospital, then drove straight to the Crawford Street mansion to pack up and shut off the utilities.

Looking through a bank of observation windows, Willow and Faith watched the surgeons operate on the girl they had brought in.

“Are you sure she’s one of us?” Faith asked. “She don’t look like much now. Not a potential Slayer, I mean.”

“Don’t know,” Willow shrugged. “Seems to fit, though. We’ll know more when she regains consciousness.”

Faith scoffed. “ _If_ she regains consciousness. The girl’s been gutted like a catfish.”

“Yeah,” Willow agreed unhappily.

Faith looked at Willow. “Something’s killing girls all over the world, trying to end the Slayer line. Thing like that, you figure I might get a heads up,” her tone was unmistakably accusatory.

Willow dropped her hands to her side and shook her head. “Faith--”

Faith threw up her hands. “Guess it doesn’t really matter as long as you've got the true Slayer intact.”

“You were in prison,” Willow replied defensively. “We figured you were safe there.”

Faith scoffed. “Yeah, that’s _prison_. Safe as a kitten.”

“Sorry, I don’t know much about the big house. Was it –” Faith looked away at her awkward remark. “I mean, did something _happen_ in there?”

Faith looked at her. “Someone came at me with a nasty looking knife. I didn’t really know why ’til now.”

“Oh, Faith, we didn’t –” Willow started to say.

“Forget it. It’s cool. I get by,” Faith interrupted, turning her attention back to the operating room. “What’re we going to do about her?”

“Uh, I guess we should find Buffy, tell her what’s going on. I-I tried calling home, Dawn said she was out patrolling.”

“Well, let’s go look for her,” Faith decided, walking away. “Cemetery’s more fun anyway.”

“Wait, somebody should stay here in case she wakes up,” Willow protested.

“Fine, sit tight. I’ll be back,” Faith called over her shoulder.

“W-w-wait! Uh, maybe you meeting Buffy alone isn’t the best idea,” Willow pointed out.

Faith turned around, continuing to walk backwards. “You told her the _sitch_ , right? She knows I’m coming. She’s probably been up all night hanging streamers.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’re study buddies, exactly. Maybe it’d be better if I – eased her into the whole thing,” Willow offered.

“Look, Willow, I can’t stay here and I’m not one for sitting around packing things away, so helping Spike is out. Besides,” she looked around the sterile hallway. “I spent way too much time in hospitals. We don’t _click_. Don’t worry.” She grinned. “I’m sure we’ll all get along just fine.” Faith faced forward and passed through the swinging double doors at the end of the hall.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite_   
**

Angel sat in a chair in the ensuite of his room, drawing. He knew Cordelia was at the door before she knocked from her light step and her scent.

“Come on in, Cordelia,” he called out from his chair.

Cordelia opened the door and walked into the room. “You know, that never stops creeping me out.” She closed the door and stayed by it, remaining silent.

Without looking up, Angel said, “I’m kinda in the middle of something. What do you want?”

“Anything coming to mind?” Cordelia asked, genuinely curious.

“Not really,” Angel replied disinterestedly.

“Nothing?” Cordelia inquired.

Angel put down his sketchpad, stood up and walked over to the window. “Look, to be honest, I’m almost pining for the halcyon days of the Beast.”

Cordelia's expression was disbelieving. “Right. ’Cause it’s not like he slaughtered hundreds of people with his bare hands.”

Angel gazed out of the window at the L.A. night skyline. “The Beast was just a flunky.”

“Who did his master’s bidding,” Cordelia added.

“Killing Manny, stealing my soul, murdering Lilah – those were surgical strikes.” Angel shook his head. “It’s not the smash-and-trash style of the Beast.”

“But if lava boy didn’t do all that, who did?” Cordelia asked, feigning interest.

Angel turned around and faced Cordelia. “His master.”

Cordelia looked Angel in the eyes. “I’m his master.” When he didn’t pick up on her comment, she continued. “I’m his all-powerful master, and I’m going to break into a guarded room, steal your soul from a safe – not by ripping it open, but by using the combination – then I’m going to hunt and kill Lilah right under this very roof.” Cordelia tilted her head thoughtfully. “Sure. Evil geniuses live for that _playing with fire_ stuff.”

“You don’t understand,” Angel started to pace the room like a caged lion. “This thing was in my head. I’ve heard him, and he’s insane enough to pull those kinds of stunts.”

Cordelia’s brow furrowed. “When you say ‘ _insane_ ,’ you mean, like, diabolical?” She could deal with being called ‘diabolical’.

Angel chuckled. “No, I mean like deluded and demented. He spoke to me in this cheesy, self-important voice. I'll bet he doesn’t even have a master plan. He’s just making it up as he goes along.” Cordelia frowned at the notion that she didn’t have a master plan, but Angel had his back to her, so he missed it. “We’ll figure it out.” He turned around to face her. “Come on, anybody as daredevil-y as this guy will slip up sooner or later.” He shrugged. “When he does, he’s dead.” Cordelia gave him a faux smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers Residence_   
**

Buffy and Faith walked through the front door into the house on Revello Drive where Giles and Dawn were sitting at the dining room table, turning around when they came inside.

“Whoa,” Faith commented as she looked around, taking in the house. “Memory lane. Same old house.”

“Yeah, well, every piece of furniture’s been destroyed and replaced since you left, so, actually, new house,” Buffy corrected her.

Dawn stood up and joined them in the foyer, her arms crossed over his chest. “Buffy?” She gave Faith an undisguised, disapproving look.

“We have a new house guest,” Buffy announced.

“Hey, got a spare bed for a wanted fugitive?” Faith asked with self-deprecating humor.

Giles stood up and nodded. “Hello, Faith.”

Faith shrugged. “I guess ‘wanted’ wasn’t really accurate.”

Dawn turned up her nose at Faith. “Does she _have_ to stay here? Because there’s some nice hotels that welcome tried-to-kill-your-sister-types.”

Faith smiled, a little impressed by the younger girl’s spunk. “Check it out, brat’s all woman-sized now.”

“Look, I need to get to the hospital," Buffy interrupted the exchange. "Some girl was attacked on her way into town. We think she might be a –”

“We know,” Dawn cut in. “Willow’s been calling.”

“She’s still there. She’s going to call if the girl wakes up,” Giles told her.

“Fine,” Buffy accepted that and walked out of the room.

“Well, Faith, we better, um, see if we can find some place to squeeze you in for the night,” Giles said as he and Dawn started to walk away.

“No. You know what? Maybe I _will_ go see if Spike needs help or something,” Faith told them, backing away, towards the door. “I can tell when my presence isn’t welcome.”

“Wait! What? Spike’s here in Sunnydale?” Dawn asked excitedly.

“Um, yeah, for a while at least,” Faith confirmed. “Willow didn’t tell you he was coming? Odd. Usually she’s all goody two-shoes about that sort of thing. Huh.” With that observation, Faith walked out of the front door and headed for the Crawford Street mansion.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_   
**

Faith knocked once as she entered the mansion. “Spike? Where are you? I knew this place was huge, but it’s been a while since I was here last.” She looked around at the décor and everything else Spike did to the place. “Wow! You went all out.”

“Faith?” Spike's query was confused as he came out of a room carrying a sealed cardboard box.

“Yeah,” Faith replied, watching him put the box down next to a stack of similarly sealed boxes.

“What brought you to my corner of Sunnyhell?” Spike asked.

“A house filled with people who would rather see me dead than extend their hospitality,” Faith told him, shuddering uncomfortably. “Makes you change priorities. Besides, being in a house full of females? Already did that in prison.”

“Ah, the Summers welcome wagon. A lot different than the crew in L.A. isn’t it?” Spike asked, and Faith nodded. “Well, I don’t know how you feel about packing boxes. **_I_** don’t like to pack up, but you can at least put the Hyperion’s address on these boxes.”

"Sure,” Faith moved closer, taking the Sharpie from him.

An hour later, Faith was nearing the end of addressing all of the boxes in the first stack, bound for the Hyperion Hotel. There were three more stacks, and counting, remaining when the front door crashed open, causing her to look up from her task. Buffy stalked into the living room.

“Where is he?”

Faith raised a brow. “He who?”

“Spike.” Buffy lifted her chin, yelling, “Spike! Where are you?”

A moment later, Spike came out of the hallway bearing two sealed cardboard boxes to add to the stacks. “What do you want, Slayer?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town? I had to hear it from Dawn, who got it from her,” Buffy accused, gesturing at Faith.

“Hey, leave me out of it,” Faith spoke up continuing to methodically address boxes.

Spike put down the boxes and leaned against the stack. “You mean to tell me you can feel Angel’s presence the second he hits the city limits, but I squeaked in under your Slayeradar?”

“Never mind that, why are you here?” Buffy demanded.

“To pack up and leave for good. That ought to have you jumping for joy, shouldn’t it?” Buffy just stared disbelieving at him. “Look, Slayer, I swear I won’t get in the middle of your current bloody apocalypse. I’ve already had my fill of apocalypses for the year.”

“Willow told me about restoring Angel’s soul,” Buffy revealed.

“Huh. I guess she failed to mention I was coming back. Fancy that,” Spike remarked sardonically. He went back down the hallway to another room, beginning to fill another box.

Buffy followed close on his heels. “Well, why are you here if you're not here to help?”

Spike turned around, arching a scarred brow at her. “Are you asking for my help?”

“No, but I need everyone I can get. We’ve been fighting the First Evil,” Buffy explained.

“The thing that tried to get Angel to off himself?” Spike inquired.

“Yeah, well, first there were these manifest spirits haunting the basement of the new Sunnydale High and, of course, Dawn’s going there now so I stuck around and ended up getting a job as a counselor there – and then I met the school principal. It was a little dicey about whether he was evil or not, but then he asked me out on a date and I accepted even though I didn’t know whether he was evil or not, you know how that goes. So, we get to the restaurant and a bunch of vampires jumped us, and I thought he’d set it up to kill me, because that's becoming a thing, but I find out it wasn’t a set-up and that he's a vampire hunter himself, totally small world, right? Oh yeah, by the way, he’s the **_son_** of a vampire Slayer, talk about keeping it in the family. On top of all that, Anya's back to being a vengeance demon again and I had to kill her, which didn't last because she's human again and Xander stopped me from killing her – hey, did you know that he lied about Willow telling me to kick Angelus’ ass?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s why I don’t care for the whelp,” Spike interrupted when she had to take a breath during her rambling.

“How do you know? You weren’t there,” Buffy asked, confused.

“Hello, I’m mated to Angel _and_ Angelus, with the hand-in-hand telepathic communication,” Spike reminded her.

Buffy seemed to consider that for a second before launching back into full ramble mode. “Anyway, after that, Dawn had this _humongous_ crush on some football player, but then me, Anya and Willow got swept up in it. Turned out, the guy’s letterman jacket had some kind of mystical, get your porn on, power. Then we got hit by the First Evil again, only this time masquerading as dead people we knew, and Willow had a magical breakdown or something and when her girlfriend kissed her she turned into Warren Mears, the guy she flayed alive last spring. She also did a spell that made her invisible to us and us to her then all these potential Slayers started showing up on my doorstep which has made it _way_ crowded. Oh, Andrew Wells killed his best nerd-friend Jonathan to open a seal that was buried in the school basement and Xander dated some girl that turned out to be an agent of the First Evil, because, hello, he's a demon magnet. She tried to sacrifice him to open that seal Andrew opened. Then the principal handed over this bag that his mother had which turned out to be a spell that opened a doorway to the First Slayer, or at least the men who created the First Slayer, and they showed me what I would be up against. Now the school is pretty vacant and half the kids aren’t coming to school, not that I blame them. I probably don't even have a job there anymore.”

“Phenomenal breath control,” Spike complimented her sarcastically, his arched eyebrow indicating he was mentally considering more productive ways of utilizing such control than simple chatter.

Buffy took a breath and replied, “Yeah, it's a thing. So, will you help me?”

Once Spike got over the shock that she _asked_ for help, he nodded.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, the Next Night_   
**

Spike hadn’t planned on helping Buffy so soon after his return to Sunnydale. He still had a mansion full of items to pack up and she'd come knocking on his door very early in the night, asking him to patrol with her and Robin Wood. He still didn’t know why he agreed to go, but Faith offered to stay behind, continue addressing the boxes, and maybe pack up a few more. Spike gave her a disbelieving look.

Now, they were in an alley, and Robin Wood, Sunnydale High's principal, turned to look over his shoulder, stake in hand. He, Buffy and Spike were fighting vampires. Spike twirled a pole with typical arrogance then staked his opponent through the heart.

Buffy was face-kicking her opponent and shouted to Spike, “Spike!” When he looked at her she nodded her head in Robin’s direction.

Spike looked over at Robin who was gamely fighting a vampire, but getting professionally pummeled. Things were looking bleak when the vampire threw Robin to the ground and stood over him growling – then he crumbled into dust. As the dust settled, Spike was revealed behind him, a shovel in his hands.

“Little tip, mate,” Spike said, offering Robin a hand to help him to his feet, “The stake’s your friend. Don’t be afraid to use it.” Spike started to walk away, but noticed Robin staring at him. “What?”

Robin shook his head and Spike gave him a shrug sauntering away. Behind him, staring after the arrogant blonde vampire, Robin's fist closed so tightly around the stake that blood oozed out between his fingers, dripping to the concrete.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers Residence_   
**

It took some time and manipulation, but Robin finally got Giles alone. The First Evil had been visiting them as dead people they'd known, even taking on the appearance of Robin's deceased mother. It visited Andrew Wells, revealing things to him regarding Spike's role in what was happening even though, until recently, Spike had been in Los Angeles.

“We need to get Spike away from Buffy,” Robin insisted.

“I don’t think she will go for that. Spike has a soul now, and he’s been watching over Buffy for years,” Giles replied.

“She'd listen to her Watcher, wouldn’t she?” Robin persisted.

“I don’t think you fully appreciate the subtle nuances of the Watcher/Slayer dynamic,” Giles replied arrogantly.

“As a matter of fact, I was raised by a Watcher,” Robin revealed.

“You were?” Giles was surprised.

“Bernard Crowley,” Robin expounded. “He took me in when I was a young kid, trained me.”

“Crowley,” Giles repeated the name thoughtfully. “I remember the name, a New York based Watcher who resigned after his Slayer was –” Giles' eyes widened as the mental penny dropped. He eyed Robin carefully. “You’re _Nikki_ Wood’s son?”

Robin nodded. “Yes.”

“Spike killed your mother,” Giles observed.

Robin looked away. “Yes.”

Giles glanced down. “Does Buffy know this?”

“She knows my mother was a Slayer. She doesn’t know about Spike.”

Giles shrugged. “And this has _nothing_ to do with personal vengeance?”

“Does it matter?” Robin asked angrily. “He’s an instrument of evil! Now he’s going to prove to be our undoing in this fight, Buffy’s undoing, and she’ll never – _never_ see it coming. I’m talking about what needs to be done for the greater good, Giles, and you know I’m right.”

Giles sighed. “What exactly do you propose?”

There was a conspiratorial gleam in Robin’s eyes as he said, “I just need you to keep Buffy away for a few hours.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_   
**

Angel sat behind his desk, working diligently on something on a pad of paper while Fred and Wesley stood in front of his desk, staring at him. Fred passed Wesley a cup of gourmet coffee.

Angel glanced up from his notepad. “You know, this would be a lot easier if the two of you weren’t hovering over me.”

“No rush,” Fred chimed simultaneously with Wesley. “Take your time.”

“I think that’s it,” Angel announced, pushing the notepad toward Wesley.

Fred moved closer to Wesley's side, setting down her cup of coffee on the desk, as she and Wesley read what was written on the paper.

“What is it?” Cordelia asked, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“The passage from Lilah’s beast-book, the one Angelus destroyed after the big, booming voice threatened to re-ensoul him,” Wesley told her.

“Angel’s been visualizing the text, trying to re-create it,” Fred explained.

“Just, you know, a little thing I can do,” Angel preened.

Cordelia walked across the office, to the desk, and looked over Fred’s shoulder, at the notepad. “Do you think there was something in the book that High-and-Mighty didn’t want us to know about?”

“He’s definitely hiding something,” Angel postulated.

“I recognize the text,” Wesley told them. “It’s early Fallorian code system. Let’s see; ‘the green cart-like vehicle eats –’”

As Wesley translated, Cordelia casually placed her hand next to the cup of coffee sitting on the desk beside the notepad, prepared to push over the coffee cup at any moment.

“I'm not a bucket head,” Wesley translated, blinking.

Angel threw up his hands in frustration and Cordelia pulled her hand back from the coffee cup.

“Damn it!” Angel barked.

“It’s a tricky language; an inverted serif can alter the meaning of an entire passage,” Wesley defended.

“What now?” Cordelia asked innocently.

“I try again,” Angel replied.

Wesley, Fred and Cordelia continued to stand around Angel’s desk, staring at him as he went back to work until he glanced up at them with a frown. All three of his friends hurriedly turned and walked away, pretending to be busy with other things in and around the office.

A short time later, Angel finished sketching a whole page of unusual characters. He ripped the page off of the notepad and held it out to Wesley without looking up.

“Try this one,” Angel told him.

Wesley went back to the desk, accepting the page, and translated, “Something about strangling poultry.”

Angel sighed disgustedly, tossing aside the notepad on the desk. “That’s it. I've got to get out of here.” He was rising to leave when Lorne walked into the office.

“Ah, ah, ah, easy does it, compadre. No huffy exists before,” Lorne’s tone became sing-song as he said, “I spill the joyous news.”

“About the Beastmaster?” Angel asked hopefully.

“Uh, no. My sources got nothing on the big Kahuna, but Wanda, that demon you recommended – what a peach, by the way – anyway, she sold me this cleansing abracadabra to clear my muddled mind,” Lorne enthused with a grin.

“You’re empathic again?” Fred asked excitedly.

“Please.” Lorne held up a long black cloak. “Do you think this Dungeons & Dragons cloak is a fashion statement? I have to perform this whole song and dance –”

“Well, we’re getting nowhere. If you need extra hands –” Wesley's offer trailed off.

“Sorry, I can only take my two. Ritual has to be performed solo. Just me and my shadow, secluded in a dark, dusty nowhere land. Ugh. But on the upside of it, I should be ‘all systems go’ come sunrise.”

“Then you’ll be able to read us again?” Cordelia gave him an apprehensive smile that was supposed to appear hopeful.

“No worries, dumpling. Come morning, I will be a lean, mean, reading machine.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, One of the Many Cemeteries, Night_   
**

Night enveloped Sunnydale with inky arms and Giles and Buffy were patrolling the cemetery.

“I don’t know, Giles. I mean, Spike’s here to help sure, but he was also packing up the mansion like he was getting ready to leave for good. And in case you haven’t noticed, our plates are kind of full right now. Plus, I’m not really sure how I feel about leaving Spike and Robin alone together,” Buffy observed. Sure, she didn’t care for him, but Angel had Spike watching out for her, which she decided technically meant Spike was on loan to her.

**************************

**  
_Workshop at Robin Wood’s Residence_   
**

Robin unlocked the door of a weathered, nondescript shed.

“You live in the garage?” Spike asked, one eyebrow arching like a question mark.

“Oh, no, this is just a work room. Kind of like my sanctuary,” Robin replied airily as he walked inside, Spike following him.

“A little place to unwind, eh?” Spike asked. “A hard day of principaling gets you down, you need a place to cut loose, let your hair down – so to speak.”

Robin flipped the lights on in the shed to reveal that every square inch of the walls inside was covered with wooden crosses.

Spike looked around. “What the bloody hell is this?”

“Well, I told you. It’s my, um, sanctuary. It’s the hellmouth, Spike. You can never be too careful. Just, um, stay away from the walls, and you’ll be all right.” Robin went over to his computer desk.

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Spike remarked. After a moment he asked, “What’s your story, Wood?”

“No story, really,” Robin said. “Just trying to do what’s right. Make a difference. How ’bout you? What kind of man are you, Spike?”

“Sorry. Not much for self reflection,” Spike replied, continuing to stare at the crosses.

“Yeah, makes sense,” Robin acknowledged as he unbuttoned his shirt. “See, you strike me as the kind of guy that careens through life.” He stripped off the shirt then reached into a drawer, drawing out and strapping on fighting paraphernalia to his arms. “Completely oblivious to the damage he’s doing to everyone around him.”

“Is that right?” Spike quipped.

“Oh, I know more about you than you think, Spike. See, I’ve been searching for you for a very, very long time.” Robin eyed Spike narrowly. “Ever since you killed my mother.”

“I’ve killed a lot of people’s mothers,” Spike replied indifferently, still staring at the cross-lined walls.

Robin finished strapping on the combat gear. “Yeah. You’d remember mine. She was a Slayer.”

“So, that’s it, innit?” Spike glanced over at Robin and surmised, “The crux of all this, you brought me here to kill me?”

Robin turned to face Spike. “No, I don’t want to kill you, Spike. I want to kill the monster that took my mother away from me.”

Robin suddenly attacked Spike, punching powerfully until the demon surfaced to defend itself and Spike snarled at Robin.

Robin stepped back. “There he is.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

Lorne walked into the dark basement, pausing by the door. “Oh, fudge-cicle.” Taking out a flashlight, he walked through the dark room until he reached a table where he set up white candles, then lit them.

Unseen by Lorne, Cordelia watched him from the shadows of top step.

**************************

**  
_Workshop at Robin Wood’s Residence_   
**

Robin punched demon-faced Spike, who growled at him.

“That’s right, dog,” Robin taunted. “Fight back.”

Robin continued to rain blow after blow on Spike, who stubbornly refused to fight back, outside of defensive maneuvers. Robin ultimately backed Spike into the cross-covered wall and pushed the blonde vampire's face toward the crosses. Spike growled, resisting as best he could, but Robin pushed harder until Spike’s face was finally smoking and the scent of burnt flesh permeated the room.

After a few minutes of torturing the blonde vampire with crosses, Robin threw Spike across the room into a bookcase that collapsed around Spike, who landed on the floor. Robin sauntered up to him.

“It hurts, don’t it?” Robin taunted, standing over Spike. He grabbed the vampire by the collar. Is this what it felt like,” he punched Spike, “when you beat the life out of her,” He punched Spike again, “when toyed with her,” he punched Spike again then screamed, “When you snapped her neck!”

Spike lay on the floor, beaten, and barely moving. Robin stood over him, removing his fighting gear.

“Animal like you,” Robin began, “you never cared about anyone but yourself. No one else mattered.” He put on his shirt again. “Just all about the hunt.” He walked over and pulled the leather duster off Spike’s body. “Yeah.” He draped the jacket over a chair before walking across the room to the wall where he broke off a piece of a wooden cross then returned to stand over Spike.

Spike reached up, capturing Robin’s wrist just in time to prevent Robin from staking him. He lifted his leg, kicking Robin away, then jumped to his feet. Robin kicked out at the blonde vampire and missed. Spike punched Robin, knocking him down. “I don’t give a piss about your mum. She was a Slayer. I was a vampire.” He kicked Robin. “That’s the way the game is played.”

“Game?” Robin echoed angrily.

Robin lunged at Spike, but Spike punched him again and again before jumping up to grab a ceiling rafter and kicking Robin across the room.

“She knew what she was signing up for,” Spike told him frankly.

“Well, I didn’t sign up for it!” Robin argued as he got to his feet.

“Well, that’s the rub, innit? You didn’t sign up for it,” Spike agreed.

“You took my childhood,” Robin accused and punched Spike. “You took her away!” He punched Spike again, but Spike pushed him off. “She was all I had! She was my world!”

“But you weren’t hers,” Spike pointed out. “Doesn’t that piss you off?”

“Shut up! You didn’t know her,” Robin hissed.

Robin spun around and kicked at Spike, but Spike blocked him, knocking him down. Robin tried to kick Spike from the floor, but Spike grabbed his leg.

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s Slayers,” Spike growled, manipulating his grip on Robin's leg to hurl him against the wall. “No matter how many people they’ve got around them, they fight alone. The life of the Chosen One, their friends and Watcher be damned. Your mother was no different.”

Robin leaned against the wall, choking a bit. “No, she loved me.”

“But not enough to quit, though, was it? Not enough to walk away – for you.” Spike knelt beside Robin. “I’ll tell you a story about a mother and son; see, like you, I loved my mother, so much so I turned her into a vampire.” When Robin looked at him, Spike nodded. “So we could be together forever. She said some nasty bits to me after I did that. It’s been weighing on me my whole time as a vampire, just sitting there in the back of my mind.” He pointed at Robin. “But you helped me figure something out. You see, unlike you, I had a mother who loved me back. When I Sired her as a fledgling, I set loose a demon, and it tore into me, but it was the demon talking, not her. I realize that now. My mother loved me with all her heart. I _was_ her world. Thanks doc, you cured me after all. I just wanted you to know that –” Spike bared his fangs. “Before I kill you.”

Spike grabbed Robin, standing him up, then sank his fangs into his neck.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, One of the Many Cemeteries, Night_   
**

Giles paced and watched as Buffy battled a vampire.

“Spike’s a liability, Buffy,” Giles was saying. “You don’t see it, though. Angel left here because he realized how harmful your relationship with him was.”

Buffy stopped fighting and turned to Giles. “Spike is here because Angel sent him here to help me. We need him. I’m in the fight of my life.”

“Really?” the vampire asked surprised.

“Not you, Richard,” Buffy contradicted him as she punched him.

“You want Spike here even after what he’s done to you in the past?” Giles asked.

“It’s different now. He has a soul,” Buffy argued. Finally the penny dropped and her eyes widened. “Oh, my God!” She staked the vampire. “You’re stalling me. You’re keeping me away –”

“It’s time to stop playing the role of general, and start being one,” Giles cut in. Buffy ran off, ignoring him. Giles called after her, “This is the way wars are won.”

**************************

**  
_Workshop at Robin Wood’s Residence_   
**

Spike walked out of the shed, shrugging into his leather duster. Buffy ran up to the shed just as he was walking away. Her face had expression of genuine concern.

“Spike? What happened?” Buffy asked. Spike walked back to the door and opened it. Buffy saw Robin sitting on the floor, slumped over. “Oh my God.”

“I gave him a pass,” Spike said glaring at her. “I let him live on the count of the fact I killed his mother. But that’s all he gets.” Spike started walking away, but stopped. “He even so much as looks at me funny again, I’ll kill him.”

Buffy watched Spike leave. She closed her eyes and sighed before going into the shed. She started to move toward Robin to help him up, but then she looked around the room and the cross-covered walls. “I lost my mom a couple of years ago. I came home and found her dead on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said weakly.

“I understand what you tried to do, but she’s dead,” Buffy said.

“Because he murdered her,” Robin pointed out.

“I’m preparing to fight a war, and you’re looking for revenge on a man that doesn’t exist,” Buffy said.

“Buffy, don’t delude yourself. That man still exists,” Robin said.

“Spike is the strongest warrior we have. We’re going to need him if we’re going to come out of this thing alive. He came back to help me. You try anything again, he’ll kill you. More importantly, I’ll let him.” Robin looked surprised at her. “I have a mission to win this war, to save the world. I don’t have time for vendettas.” Buffy turned and walked away. “The mission is what matters.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

Lorne prepared potions and incense at the candle-lit table in the basement. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head then picked up a hymnal. He sang a song that sounded vaguely like a Gregorian chant, except that it had no words, only humming and _oohing_. Cordelia silently sneaked down the stairs, gripping a knife in one hand. She made her way stealthily across the basement to stand behind Lorne, raising her hand, ready to stab him, when someone turned on the lights. Cordelia spun around to find Angel standing in front of her.

“Angel –” Cordelia breathed in surprise, realizing there was no way to lie about her intent. Glancing between Angel and Lorne’s back, she turned to flee the room only to be intercepted by Fred and Wesley, who were armed and blocking her exit.

Lorne drew a white cloth off of a ball – a Magic 8 Ball – then he shook the ball. “Has Cordy been a bad, bad girl?”

When Lorne turned the Magic 8 Ball over, the triangle inside read, “ _Definitely_.”


	16. Chapter 64-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 64-A: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 14)_

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Basement_   
**

Angel, Wesley, Fred and Lorne stood around Cordelia. Fred and Wesley were aiming guns at her.

“All this time, it was you, wasn’t it?” Angel unnecessarily inquired, glaring at her.

Cordelia smirked at his ire. “Took you long enough to figure it out, but nice turn with the Lorne-bait. You know, there was a time when I would’ve seen that coming eons before it ever crossed your tiny little mind.”

“Because you’re so clever,” Angel commented.

“On the scale of you versus me? Pretty damn,” she said.

“Until now,” Angel said.

“All good things,” Cordelia sighed. “So, what finally ticked off the great detective?”

“You were hovering way too much, more so than abnormal,” Angel revealed. “Every time I turned around you were there watching, wanting to know what was going on. Who else would be that interested in what we were doing to kill the Beastmaster?”

“That’s it? I get away with bringing the world down around you and you noticed I was _too_ observant?”

“What we already knew,” Wesley said. “What he found out as Angelus. All the circumstantial evidence led to you.”

“Just needed to be sure,” Angel added. “So, we had Lorne set up this little stunt, and look who came spying.”

“Little late to the table, but I might have a few scraps left,” Cordelia smiled evilly.

“Why are you doing this, Cordy?” Fred asked.

“This _thing_ isn’t Cordelia,” Angel corrected her.

Cordelia smiled and shook her head. “Is that what you think, hero?”

“She would never hurt her friends – like this,” Angel said.

“Or maybe you just don’t know me very well,” Cordelia countered.

Angel approached Cordelia. “I don’t want to know _you_.”

Cordelia pulled the knife on Angel, but he grabbed her wrist, diverting the strike, and with his other hand he gripped her by the throat, choking her.

“Where’s Cordelia?” Angel demanded.

Cordelia closed her eyes, and in the next instant, Angel was thrown across the basement. Lorne grabbed a tranquilizer gun from under the table, shooting at Cordelia, who ducked with snake like speed. Fred took aim with her tranquilizer gun, firing, but Cordelia grabbed her hand, redirecting the dart at Wesley who failed to avoid it, staggering and collapsing on the floor.

Cordelia repelled Angel with a spell as he was struggling to his feet and he blearily saw her run off in the direction of the sewers before he collapsed on the floor.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Wine Cellar of a local Vineyard_   
**

Caleb poured wine into a glass directly from a barrel tap.

“Drink of this, for it is my blood,” he recited scripture before taking a sip. “You know, I always loved the story of the Last Supper.” Looking at his glass, he turned and paced. “The body and blood of Christ becoming rich, red wine. I recall, as a boy, though, I couldn’t help but think: what would happen if you were at the Last Supper, and you ordered the white? A nice oaky Chardonnay or White Zin – I mean, would he make that out of his lymph or some-all?” Caleb shrugged. “Never did bring it up. Suppose there was a reason why I never spent too long in one parish. Just looking for answers. Just looking for the Lord in the wrong damn places.” He gestured to someone in the room with him. “Then you showed me the light.”

The First Evil, wrapped in the likeness of Buffy Summers, chuckled, _“Do you think I’m God?”_ She emerged from the shadows, approaching Caleb.

“I certainly do not,” Caleb replied. “I am beyond concepts like that.”

 _“But you still wear the outfit,”_ the First Evil pointed out.

“Man can’t turn his back on what he came from,” Caleb acquiesced. “Besides, black is slimming.” He looked down at his clerical vestments. “Everyone knows that.”

 _“How do you like what I’m wearing?”_ the First Evil asked as it modeled Buffy’s appearance.

Caleb looked her over. “Just another dirty girl. And, since you only dress up in dead folk, I’m guessing, one who’s already paid her wage.”

The First Evil smiled. _“Look hard. What do you see?”_

Caleb checked out the First Evil’s form. “Strength, and the loneliness that comes with real strength.”

The First Evil turned its head and asked, _“Nothing about my pert and bouncy hairdo?”_

Caleb raised a brow. “You’re _her_.”

 _“The Slayer,”_ the First Evil confirmed.

Caleb reached toward her. “At long last,” he remarked, mystified. He tried to touch her face, but his hand went through her. “All this time. All the work I’ve done for you . . . blowing up the Council, organizing the Ray Charles Brigade, and stickin’ all them splits – you never showed me.”

 _“Well, you earned it. And you’ll be meeting her soon. Am I right?”_ the First Evil asked.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’ll get the message,” Caleb confirmed.

 _“And what makes you so sure she’ll come?”_ the First Evil asked.

Caleb nodded. “Curiosity. Woman’s first sin. I offer her an apple, what can she do but take it?” Caleb grinned and raised his glass. “I’ll see you soon.”

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Lobby_   
**

Gunn walked into the lobby where Angel, Fred, Wesley and Lorne were sitting around nursing their wounds.

Reading his pager, Gunn apologized, “Sorry, just got your message. Being close to Electric Gwen can really screw with your equipment. What–?” he looked up and noticed the various states of bruising on his friends. “The hell happened to you?”

Holding an icepack to her face, Fred replied, “Cordy’s evil.” Then she noticed his expertly tailored attire. “Nice suit.”

“It’s not Cordy,” Angel insisted thoughtfully.

“We don’t know that for certain,” Wesley added.

“Whoa! Back it up for the new guy,” Gunn said, slipping his pager back into his pocket. “You saying Cordelia Chase threw you a beating?”

“More like cheated, used magic, probably a repelling spell. Then she _mwa-ha-ha_ ’d at us as she fled,” Lorne replied before taking a sip of his drink.

“Why?” Gunn inquired.

“Beastmaster,” Angel said simply.

“You think she’s working for him?” Gunn asked.

Fred rolled her eyes. “She _is_ the Master.”

Gunn looked perplexed. “Guy steps out for a few hours, half the place goes super-villain.” He fell onto the couch beside Lorne. “ _She’s_ the evil genius that’s been two-stepping all over us?” He shook his head in disbelief. “How? And when?” He took the drink out of Lorne’s hand. “Give me a sip of that.”

“Hey!” Lorne cried as Gunn snatched his beverage then took an indulgent drink.

“Has she been like this since she got back from that higher wherever?” Fred pondered out loud.

_“What about that amnesia thing?” Spike’s voice asked through the speaker phone on the reception desk. “Was that a fake-out?”_

Gunn thought Spike left with Faith and Willow, so he looked around the room, but didn’t see the blonde. “Spike?”

_Then, there was a hissing sound and Spike yelling, “Ouch, woman!”_

_“Big baby,” Faith said. “No one told you to go with Wood in the first place. This is what you get. Now I’m stuck here playing nurse.”_

_“Still in Sunnydale, Charlie-boy,” Spike’s voice confirmed over the speaker phone. “Been packing up the mansion. Faith’s going to be leaving soon to reunite with her Slayer-kin over at Buffy’s. However, I did meet the Slayer’s new muscle, or rather my fist and fangs met his face and neck.”_

“Turns out the new principal of the high school is the vengeful son-of-a-Slayer Spike killed. Faith’s patching him up,” Angel remarked offhandedly.

“Oh my God! You didn’t kill him did you, Spike?” Fred asked worriedly.

_“No, Fred, I didn’t kill him. The guy trapped me in a work shed and tried to kill me for killing his mum. It was a fair cop; she was my second Slayer kill.”_

Angel's eyes slowly closed at Spike’s words, as if that could block his mate's braggadocio about killing two Slayers.

“Well, props to you for not killing the guy, vanilla latte,” Lorne nodded toward the speaker phone.

_“Vanilla latte?” Spike echoed._

“Back on point here, maybe the amnesia was a side effect; descending to a lower dimension was probably disorienting,” Wesley postulated.

“Or maybe this thing was curled deep inside for the trip on some kind of, you know, autopilot,” Angel added thoughtfully. When he was met with silence, he looked around at the owl-eyes staring at him.

_“Care to elaborate, peaches?” Spike prompted._

“Look, all we know for sure is that the real damage didn’t start until after Lorne’s memory spell,” Angel explained.

**************************

_In the hotel lobby a few months ago, Lorne gave Cordelia a drop of magical memory potion while Angel and Spike looked on. She made a face at the taste._

**************************

Fred’s face lit up. “Oh, my God.” She looked around at the group. “ _We_ woke it up.”

“That’s what I read,” Lorne said. “That’s what Wolfram & Hart sucked out of my noodle. It wasn’t Cordelia’s future, it was the smacker-jack surprise.”

“Damn thing’s been playing us right from the start,” Gunn observed.

_“From the inside – where it could do the all the bloody damage,” Spike said._

“Everything the Beast couldn’t have done, it was this thing,” Angel added. “It spiked my blood at Gwen’s, snuck into the vault, killed Manny.”

“Wait a minute,” Gunn held up his hand in a pausing motion. “When Gwen and I came in, faux-Cordy didn’t have any blood on its clothes. How’d it abracadabra that?”

Wesley’s eyebrows rose in realization. “Lizzie Borden. It wasn’t wearing any.”

“Okay, so it stripped down then gave Manny forty whacks,” Angel adjusted his scenario.

“A quick sponge down in the sink, and –” Gunn started to say.

“Voila, shower-fresh murder,” Lorne finished.

“Taking out the Svear priestesses was a lot easier. Slip out while the heroes are chasing their tails –” Angel started to say.

_“– And slaughter the only bloody hope of banishing her pet Beast,” Spike finished._

“Yeah. While everyone was reeling from that failure, it was making sure my soul was off the market,” Angel fumed.

“And the vision of the spell to re-ensoul you?” Fred prompted.

“Misdirection,” Angel replied. “Getting everyone to look over here while the real action was happening over there.”

Realization hit Lorne. “That explains why my mojo’s been gunked up. Queen Bee-yatch put the whammy on me.”

_“How about the Soul-Eater?” Spike asked, adding sarcastically, “’Cause that was bloody fun.”_

“It needed the skull for the spell. It probably didn’t think about the soul-eater sucking the soul out of you,” Angel replied.

_“Well, nice to know that the Beastmaster was an equal-opportunist,” Spike groused._

“But it all added up to letting the monster out of the box,” Angel summarized.

_“Angelus,” Spike observed. “That was another distraction to keep us off balance. While I was out trailing you, and the others were researching the Beast, Cordelia – or the Beastmaster – whichever, was left alone to do what she wanted. Everyone thought she was up in her room.”_

Angel didn’t correct him because, to Spike, he and Angelus were both the same person, just different aspects.

Wesley considered this before speaking up, “It was Cordelia. She murdered Lilah.”

“We don’t know if it’s really Cordy,” Angel reminded him.

_“Well, look mate, I got to go. Between packing and being on-call for another apocalypse, I'm a busy bloke,” Spike said. “Keep me posted, yeah?”_

“Sure, Spike. Take care of yourself,” Angel verbally signed off before hitting a button on the phone to hang up the speakerphone.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Sunnydale High School, Principal Wood’s Office_ **

Principal Wood sat at his desk working when the school bell rang. Buffy walked up to his office and leaned casually on the doorjamb.

“You look better,” Buffy observed.

“No, I don’t,” Robin disagreed without looking up.

Buffy smiled. “No, you don’t.”

“But I’ll be okay,” Robin conceded. “Unless, of course, _you_ start beating up on me now.”

“I won’t,” Buffy assured him, shrugging. “Well, I thought about it. I made some doodles.” She looked at him to see if she got a rise out of him then became serious. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re on even ground. I meant what I said; I don’t have time for your vendetta, but I need you in this fight. I want you on my side.”

“Thanks. That means a lot,” Robin said.

“So, are we good?” Buffy asked.

Robin looked at Buffy. “Absolutely.” Buffy sighed with relief. “You’re fired.”

“What?” Buffy exclaimed, shocked.

“Effective immediately,” Robin added.

“You’re firing me?” Buffy inquired as she walked into his office and stood in front of his desk. “I just refrained from kicking your ass, graciously I might add.”

“Buffy, there’s nothing here for you,” Robin explained. “I mean, people are leaving town, half the kids don’t even bother showing up anymore. You’ve got things to deal with that are much worse than anything here. Look at the big picture.”

“Right,” Buffy sat in a chair facing his desk. “The big picture. The one with the big war and dead little girls.”

“Not dead,” Robin insisted. “Not dead, not if you get them ready.”

“I don’t want to lead them into war. It can’t be the right thing,” Buffy said sadly.

“Most wars aren’t, you know,” Robin pointed out.

“Some of these girls haven’t even been tested in battle,” Buffy countered.

“Then, I guess, maybe you should test them,” Robin made the obvious suggestion.

“Couldn’t I just come to work part-time?” Buffy asked, attempting her perkiness of old. “I could make flyers for encounter groups and post them up all over school.”

“And you’re fired again,” Robin shot down her suggestion. “Remember, Buffy, the mission’s what matters.”

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_ **

Angel dragged himself into the office where Wesley sat at the desk, deeply involved in research.

Wesley looked up as Angel walked in and collapsed into a chair. “Any luck?” he inquired.

“I swept the area ’til daybreak, checked the sewer tunnels in case she went underground, picked up her scent a half dozen times, but–” Angel trailed off.

“Cordelia, or whatever she is now, if she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t,” Wesley admitted, glancing at his research. “You’re just wasting your time.”

“I’m getting good at that, huh? Dragged my heel with Spike until the last minute, and this thing was there right in front of me.” He looked at the picture he'd drawn of Cordelia. “I couldn’t see it.”

“The Master wanted that. All of those things played on your emotions, working to cloud your judgment.” Wesley rose and walked to the window, looking out at Fred, Lorne and Gunn talking to each other around the reception desk. “Drawing your attention away so that this thing could continue to murder anyone it – at least you had a reason for letting it happen.”

Angel stood up, speaking to Wesley’s back. “Wes, Lilah and I weren’t exactly friends –”

“You were mortal enemies,” Wesley agreed, stating the truth. “Why should you care what happened to her?”

“Because you did,” Angel replied softly.

Wesley turned to gaze at Angel a moment, before returning his attention to the papers on the desk. “There’s nothing here. If this thing could obliterate all references to the Beast, it’s very unlikely it would leave its own bio lying about.”

Angel walked behind the desk looking thoughtfully at the scattered papers. “What about pan-dimensional texts like the one Lilah –?” He stopped and looked guiltily at Wesley, then glanced down again.

Wesley cleared his throat. “Uh, I have Lorne reaching out to the black markets, but it’ll take time.”

“Great,” Angel groaned as he collapsed into the seat behind the desk. “Another thing we don’t have.”

“Then let’s go to the source,” Wesley suggested. “Whatever happened to Cordelia, it took place after her ascension to the higher planes. Maybe the Powers might be able to –?”

“No,” the dark haired vampire interrupted. “The last couple of times I’ve asked the Powers That Be for help, they made it pretty damn clear they weren’t in the business.”

Wesley nodded in acknowledgment. “But at least one of those was to save _Darla’s_ life. A mass-murdering ex-vampire dying of syphilis? A strong ‘ _no_ ’ is hardly a shock.”

“You think the Powers couldn’t see this thing was masquerading as Cordy? What it was doing to us? They didn’t stop it because they didn’t want to get their hands dirty.” Angel halted his rant as a thought occurred to him. “What we need is somebody who _does_. Somebody who is right in the middle of all this.”

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_ **

Faith walked into the living room carrying a stack of three more boxes. The entire space in the dining room was covered in boxes so she'd begun filling this space as well. If Spike planned on sending all of this stuff to the Hyperion, he was going to have a hefty shipping bill. And there was still more that needed to be packed. She never thought Angel and Spike would last as a couple, but they seemed to be doing all right from what she’d seen on their visits to the prison, and those few weeks she spent tracking Angelus. She knew they were mated for life, but mated didn’t necessarily mean you could stand them for an eternity. Still, it looked like Angel and Spike found a way to make it work.

Spike came in from the kitchen carrying a glass of warmed blood. He watched as Faith set down the boxes. “You’ve been over here a lot lately," he observed casually. “What’s wrong at the Summers’ house? You and the Slayer not getting on?”

“Mind if I smoke in here?” Faith asked. When he shook his head, she lit a cigarette. “No more Starbucks for the wannabes over there. They’ve been spazzing since they woke up this morning.” She turned to him. “So, what’s it like to have your personal turkey stuffed with a soul after all those years of free ranging it?”

“I got dangerous – for a while,” Spike replied honestly.

“Before or after the soul?” Faith inquired.

“After, but I got over it. I was shackled to a basement wall for a week before they decided to take out Angel’s soul to get information on the Beast.” Spike took a drink of blood before asking, “So, why aren’t you over there imparting your hard won wisdom?”

Faith shrugged and took a drag. “That’s Buffy’s thing. Anyway, I just spent a good stretch of time locked away with a mess of female-types. I kinda had my fill.”

“Hmm,” Spike acknowledged. “But you waited ’til we needed help with Angelus to bust out of jail.”

“Three squares, nice weight room, movie every third Sunday,” Faith shrugged. “It could have been worse.”

“What movie?” Spike asked curiously.

Faith thought about it. “Last one was **_Glitter_**.” Spike raised a scarred brow at her. She smirked. “I guess it _couldn’t_ have been worse.”

“You had the power to walk away any time. Nothing to stop you,” Spike pointed out.

“ _I_ stopped me. _I_ got dangerous for a while,” Faith parroted his comment back at him.

“Are you over it?” Spike asked.

“More or less,” Faith said. “I pull for the good guys now.”

“What’s the _less_?” Spike inquired with a smirk.

“Thinking of looking up a few old flings,” Faith told him with a smirk. When Spike just raised a brow at her, she explained, “Long incarceration.”

“Anytime you wanna ride me at a gallop ’til my knees buckle, and squeeze me ’til I pop like warm champagne, I’m sure Angel would be obliging and share me for a night,” Spike teased.

“Oh my God! You remember that?” Faith laughed at the memory of what she’d told him during the body swap with Buffy.

“It’s not the kind of thing a man forgets,” Spike replied, his eyes appraising her body.

“I didn’t know you were already with Angel like that,” Faith defended.

“It’s fine, Faith. Don’t worry about it,” Spike waved off her apology.

They were interrupted when the front door banged open then slammed shut. They both turned to see Buffy stalk into the room.

“Hey, B. Do you just barge in on anyone’s home or –?” Faith rhetorically asked.

“Buffy doesn’t know the meaning of knocking,” Spike explained.

Buffy crossed her arms, looking at them. “Well, it’s nice to see you two are getting along so well.”

“Things like that tend to happen when you end up dealing with an apocalypse together,” Spike replied. “Aren’t you usually at work ’bout now?”

“I decided to cut back on my hours. Figured I’d be better off focusing on the apocalypse ahead,” Buffy replied, annoyed that they were buddies when Spike should be watching out for _her_ like Angel sent him to do. Her cell phone rang and she answered it, “Hello?”

_“Buffy, Willow just called from the hospital. The girl’s awake,” Dawn said._

Buffy disconnected and looked at the two of them skeptically. “I gotta go. That girl you and Willow brought in just woke up,” Buffy addressed Faith before turning on her heel and stalking out of the mansion. Spike and Faith watched her leave with identical expressions of having a whirlwind blow through the house.

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Office_ **

Angel spent most of the night with Wesley, researching how best to find the Beastmaster. Wesley caught a catnap here and there, but Angel didn't require much sleep and sat at his desk rifling through papers, looking for a particular object. Fred and Gunn appeared in the doorway with a cardboard box.

Fred began going through the box, verbally itemizing. “Scented candles, couple of broken pieces of the Muo-Ping, and some toiletries that smell way too pretty to be evil.”

“A-ha!” Angel cried in triumph when he found a metal disc. He flipped it in the air then caught it, making a pinging sound.

“It’s not much to go on,” Fred continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “As insidious lairs go, it kept Cordy’s room nice and tidy. I think it even vacuumed.”

Angel looked up at her. “Keep working on a way to locate this thing. If I’m not back in a couple of hours –”

“You’re dead, we’re screwed, end of the world,” Gunn finished for him.

Fred smiled nervously. “Or, you could stay here with us. Here’s nice.”

“I’ve done this before. Don’t worry. Walk in the park,” Angel said with assurance as he walked past them, to the lobby, to perform a spell.

**************************

**_Hell Dimension, A Few Minutes Later_ **

Upon entering the hell dimension, Angel discovered himself in a battle with a demon. Once he knocked him out cold, he looked around to see if there were any more.

“I really hate the park.”

He picked up his sword from the ground and proceeded deeper into the chamber where another demon was making growling-grumbling sounds. Angel sneaked up behind demon, raising his sword, but the demon turned to face him before Angel could strike.

“Oh! Angel, geez!” Skip startled back. “Don’t they knock in your dimension?”

Angel took a step back. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure it was you.”

Skip got to his feet, rising to his full height. “Powerful demon Skip at your service.” Then in a lighter tone he asked, “Hey, I—I got some more buffalo wings and, uh, the game’s on at five if you want to just–”

“I’m a little pressed for time right now,” Angel apologized. “When was the last time you saw Cordelia?”

“Who?” Skip asked, not sure if he heard Angel correctly.

“She told me you were her guide when she decided to become half-demon,” Angel explained.

“She did, huh?” Skip pondered. “Okay, look, I wanted to give you the heads up, but you know how the Powers are – always making with the big hush-hush.”

Angel paced in front of the Mercenary demon. “What do you know?”

Skip held up his hands in a placating gesture. “This is going to be really hard for you to accept, but Cordelia has ascended to a higher plane.”

“Oh, I know,” Angel told him. “She’s back.”

“Back?” Skip echoed dumbfounded.

“Or at least something that looks like her,” Angel corrected.

“Well, wait. Nobody comes back from paradise,” Skip debated, considering the situation. “Okay, a Slayer once, but that –”

“So, you haven’t heard anything,” Angel raised a brow at him.

“Uh, not since her ascension,” Skip replied. “Oh, it was beautiful. You should’ve been there.”

“You were part of that?” Angel asked, hurt because according to her she’d been on her way to warn him about what Holtz had intended to do to him when she ascended. At least that was the story he got before the Beastmaster took over her body.

“It’s in the job description,” Skip explained. “As Cordelia’s guide I’m there for all the important events.”

“Except her welcome back party,” Angel countered, eyeing the demon suspiciously. “So why didn’t the Powers invite you to that one?”

Skip shrugged. “Mysterious ways. They can really drive a guy nuts.”

“Or,” Angel drawled thoughtfully. “Maybe if you had known something you might’ve warned us. No, about the only one not keen on that slipping out is the one pulling her strings.”

“Not following you there, champ,” Skip admitted, confused.

“You said it yourself, you were there,” Angel walked up to Skip, “Guiding Cordelia to her ascension, seeing her off to a higher plane, which is exactly where this thing needed her to be to make its move. So, I'm thinking either you've been played for a dupe like the rest of us, or you've been in on this from the start, Skippy.”

Skip laughed nervously, and Angel joined in the laughter, sarcastically.

“Angel, buddy, whatever’s going on, I’m telling you true–” Skip suddenly raised his forearm in front of him, and triggering a release dagger to shoot out from his armor. “Not a dupe.”

Angel knocked the arm aside, swinging his sword, but it failed to penetrate Skip’s body armor. Skip knocked away Angel’s sword then grabbed Angel by the neck.

“Not like last time, is it, monkey boy?” Skip taunted. He threw Angel across the room then stalked after him. “You know, the worst part about signing on for this gig,” he continued, punching Angel, “Was having to take a dive when you rescued that runt Billy from his box of fire.” Skip kicked Angel across the room. “I mean, come on! You really think a guy built like this would be so easy to drop?” He strolled up to Angel again, “This time we do it for real, _champion_. This time–” He grinned evilly. “You lose.”

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Night_ **

Buffy gathered the core of her team together in the living room, including Faith and Spike.

“We need to start arming the girls. I want to be ready to move when we find them,” Buffy told them.

“We don’t even know where we’re going,” Willow argued.

“That’s why I figured we’d do a little recon first,” Buffy expounded before turning her attention to Faith. “You up for it?”

Faith shrugged. “Point me where you want me.”

“And you’re certain this is the best course of action?” Giles interjected dubiously. “You don’t even know what this man has of yours – _if_ he, in fact, has anything.”

“It could be a girl, a Potential trying to get to us,” Buffy suggested.

“And it could be a stapler,” Giles hastened to point out.

“I’m going in anyway,” Buffy declared.

“With the girls?” Giles asked incredulously. “Most of them have yet to be in the field, let alone in a life or death situation.”

“Then it’s time we test them,” Buffy countered. “Look, I’ll just take the ones that have been here the longest. The rest can stay behind.”

Spike, who had been pretty quiet up to this point, taking everything in (something he’d learned from dealing with Angelus and the Beast over the last few months), spoke up, “That could be what he wants you to do – the old bait-and-switch.”

“Yeah,” Willow surprisingly agreed with him. “He lures us away then kills the girls we leave behind.”

“I know,” Buffy conceded. “That’s why I need you to stay here with them. You’re my most powerful weapon, Will. I know you can keep them safe if anything happens.”

Xander held up his hands in a pause gesture. “An unknown man breezes into town, says he has something of yours. Buffy! This thing’s got ‘trap’ written all over it.”

“He won’t be expecting a full attack – _not this soon_ ,” Buffy said emphatically. “That’s why we have to move.”

“We know nothing about this man,” Giles argued. “We cannot go into battle unprepared. We have to have more time.”

“Giles, we don’t have time!” Buffy disputed. “And you’re not going into battle.” Giles sighed in frustration. “I need you to stay behind with the others. Help the girls that still need a teacher,” she added thoughtlessly, stalking out of the house with Faith following, utterly failing to notice the shadow of hurt on her Watcher's face.


	17. Chapter 64-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  _Chapter 64-B: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 14)_

Buffy and Faith patrolled the graveyards, attempting and failing at small talk until they spotted a Bringer and began following him at a safe distance.

“No eyes, but look at him go. He got sonar or something?” Faith whispered.

“Or something, I guess,” Buffy shrugged. “They’re pretty good when they attack.”

“Do they roam freely around town?” Faith asked critically.

“Well, that lends weight to the whole _it’s a trap_ theory, Faith commented dryly.

“I’m through waiting around for people to attack us,” Buffy snapped.

“Hey, I’m with you,” Faith defended. “Drop me in the hornet’s nest, what the hell? You got a rough sitch here, though, trying to turn a bunch of little girls into an army–”

“They’re Potential Slayers, just like we were,” Buffy interrupted.

“Right, maybe they’ll do as good as us,” Faith’s sarcasm was apparent.

“They’re getting better,” Buffy argued.

“I’ll work with them,” Faith offered. “Some of ’em seem real eager. Fashion disasters, yeah, but they’re ready to fight.”

Buffy stopped walking. “Why did you come back?” she asked with an accusing edge to her question.

“Willow said you needed me,” Faith replied, adding defensively. “I didn’t give it a lot of thought. Do you – Am I getting you want me to _not_ be here?”

Buffy sighed. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m – glad that you’re here. It’s good. Thank you.”

Faith fell in step when Buffy continued to walk. In a softer, self-deprecating tone, Faith said, “No problem. You know me. All about the good deeds.”

“So, why did Spike come back?” Buffy inquired.

“Angel sent him back to help – if he can, but mostly he’s here to close down the mansion and move to L.A., permanently. He shipped out the first load of boxes today, cost nearly a grand for a delivery,” Faith told her.

“Willow mentioned you helped out Angel,” Buffy remarked, distracted by Angel’s name more than about the story of Spike’s costly delivery woes.

“Yeah. He says ‘hi,’ by the way,” Faith replied.

“Really?” Buffy was surprised.

“Sure,” Faith wondered why the blonde seemed surprised.

“How is he?” Buffy asked.

“Better. I had to do this whole magical-mind-walk thing with him,” Faith said.

“You were in Angel’s mind?” Buffy’s jealously reared its head.

“Buffy–” Faith began to explain, but stopped, looking toward the barn the Bringer approached. “What is this place?”

Buffy examined the building too. “Look, there are more of them.”

“I think we just found our hornet’s nest,” Faith observed.

“Let’s get the cavalry,” Buffy told her, and they both fell back into the shadows.

**************************

**_Hell Dimension_ **

Skip and Angel were still fighting. Skip slammed Angel to the ground.

Walking up to Angel, Skip taunted, “Well, now, this is embarrassing.”

Struggling to his feet, Angel panted, “Tell me – what happened to Cordelia?”

“Or what, you’ll bleed on me some more?” Skip sneered.

Angel threw a punch at Skip, but he was outmatched. None of his punches fazed Skip, who just rained blow after blow upon Angel in return, crushing him to the ground.

“You know, I’ve always wondered,” Skip mused thoughtfully, “How many chunks do you gotta hack off a vampire before he goes all dust bunny?”

Angel got to his feet again. “Tell me what happened –”

“Yeah, I heard that part,” Skip cut in.

Angel punched Skip in the torso several times, and when Skip punched back, he ducked then leapt up to grab onto a chain hanging from the ceiling, swinging over Skip’s head and landing across the room. When he landed, Skip was waiting to knock him to the concrete with a powerful blow.

“What are you, Tarzan? See, this is the nefarious meat of it, pal. You die never knowing what really happened to the woman you care about,” Skip taunted. “Gotta respect the classics.”

Angel grabbed a section of chain from the wall, using it to stand up. Then, he suddenly swung the chain at Skip, catching it on a spur of Skip’s hand, pulling and ripping off the spur. Swinging the chain repeatedly at Skip’s face, he ultimately caught it on a large spur of Skip’s head, ripping it off. Skip screamed in pain, briefly holding his hand to his head before going after Angel again, but Angel punched him repeatedly in the face.

Skip staggered around. “You really think that’s gonna –”

Angel reared back, punching Skip again, with far more power this time. Skip fell to the concrete, unconscious. Angel looked down at Skip’s inert body then looked at his hand – and the chain he’d wrapped around it.

“Yeah, I do,” Angel remarked casually.

**************************

**_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_ **

Fred, Wesley, Gunn and Lorne were researching in the lobby. Fred was pacing and reading an article.

“Hey guys, here’s something. Maybe I can –” she started to say, jumping when a cross-dimensional portal opened up right behind her.

Suddenly, Angel and an unconscious mercenary demon were in the middle of the hotel lobby with them. On the floor beside the demon, the metal disk that Angel took with him, spun around until it came to rest.

“—have an embolism!” Fred cried as the portal pushed her back against the reception desk.

Wesley, Gunn and Lorne rushed around to the front of the desk and looked down at the demon in shocked surprise.

“What the hell happened?” Wesley asked anxiously.

Angel was bent over, hands resting on his knees, panting. He glanced up at Wesley with a cynical expression. “We had words.”

Lorne looked from the unconscious demon back to Angel. “Between pummelings?”

“Whatever’s happened to Cordy, he’s a part of it. We need to bind him to this dimension.” Angel groaned with the aches and pains of walking to the settee, collapsing onto it. Everyone else continued standing around, gawking at the demon until Angel raised an eyebrow at them. “Before he wakes up would be nice.”

**************************

**_A Back Alley in Los Angeles_ **

A teenaged girl dropped her school books, backing away as a vampire stalked after her.

“Mmm,” the vampire growled, looking at the girl like she was a Thanksgiving dinner. “I _really_ love virgins.” He lunged forward to sink his fangs into what he anticipated being an easy meal, but he turned to dust before sinking a single tooth into her. When the dust cleared away, Cordelia stood in the vampire’s place.

“Are you all right?” Cordelia asked.

“H-h-he tried to kill –” the girl started to say.

“I know,” Cordelia interrupted before asking, with faux concern, “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” the girl confirmed. “You stopped him. Th-thank you.” She suddenly started crying in relief. “Thank you oh-oh God, thank you so much. Th-thank –” In mid-gratitude, Cordelia punched the girl in the face, knocking her unconscious.

**************************

**_A Warehouse Somewhere in Los Angeles, Night_ **

Cordelia tossed the insensate girl on the concrete floor of a warehouse like a sack of damaged potatoes. Her face was bruised and bloodied from where Cordelia hit her, and Cordelia stared at the girl with glassy eyes for a long moment before walking over to a scrying bowl filled with blood. Her eyes rolled up, revealing the whites, as she awaited the next instruction from her visions.

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby, Night_ **

Skip, the mercenary demon, stood inside a cylinder of red light. At his feet was a circle of red sand. He reached out to touch the light, retracting his hand as if he'd been electrocuted. The light became an invisible barrier.

“Sand of the red palm,” Skip chuckled. “It’s a child’s trick.”

“Then why don’t you come out and play?” Gunn asked provocatively.

Skip sneered. “In time.”

Angel crossed his arms, staring at the demon. “You’ll have a lot of that after we make your accommodations a little more permanent.” He stepped closer to Skip, prompting, “Fred?”

Fred held an open book in her arms, displaying the marked page to the demon. “Sphere of the Infinite Agonies. Every second a lifetime. I should be able to whip one up in say, twenty minutes?”

“Everything you know, or she starts whipping,” Angel demanded in a low, dangerous tone.

“Hey,” Skip held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, I’m just a merc. I go where the deal is – and not getting stuck in one of those?” He gestured toward the book. “Bargain. Anyone got a cigarette?”

Angel paced. “Cordelia. Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Skip shrugged. “This is your dimension, man. You tell me.”

“I mean the _real_ Cordelia, not this thing that’s been posing as her,” Angel clarified.

Skip shook his head disbelievingly, rolling his eyes. “How’d I ever get spanked by such a chump nut?” He looked Angel up and down, sighing in agitation. “That thing which has turned your life into a burning ring of fire? She _is_ the real Cordelia.” He shrugged. “Or at least she’s in there somewhere. This whole thing –”

“Is it Cordy or not?” Gunn interrupted impatiently.

“Oh, it’s her,” Skip established. “She just ain’t driving.”

“Something took control of her on the higher plane?” Angel posed thoughtfully.

“Drill a little deeper, Hoss,” Skip replied. “How do you think she got there in the first place?”

“You’re saying her ascension was all part of this thing’s plan?” Wesley postulated.

“No, Cordelia was chosen to become a higher being because she’s such a pure, radiant saint,” Skip replied sarcastically. He scoffed. “Puh-lease.”

**************************

**_A Warehouse Somewhere in Los Angeles, Night_ **

Cordelia sat on the floor, in the middle of a circle lit by white candles, chanting. The scrying bowl of blood sat on the floor in front of her.

“Vanu’esh. Katahn darh’im. Vajra’ha’esh. Vanu’esh. Katahn darh’im. Vajra’ha’esh,” she chanted.

The girl woke up, her hands bound behind her back, and her ankles tied together.

“Please,” she begged softly. “I have to get home. My mom will be so mad.” Cordelia ignored her, continuing to chant and the girl began to cry. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Please, just let me go.”

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby, Night_ **

Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Lorne and Fred stood in a semi-circle around Skip, still trapped in the cylinder of light created to cage him.

“You really think it matters?” Skip asked. “I mean, nothing I tell you is going to change what’s going to happen.”

“Cut the doom and gloom,” Angel said. “What’s taken over Cordy?”

“Something that is beyond your comprehension,” Skip replied. “To give it voice would rend your feeble brain into a quivering mass of –”

Angel glanced at Fred. “Fred, infinite agony,” he instructed before walking away.

Fred rose, holding the book the way she’d wield a weapon, but before she could utter the first syllable, Skip hurriedly said, “Okay. You got me! It doesn’t even _have_ a name.”

“Then what do _you_ call it?” Gunn inquired.

“Oh, Master or ‘Hey’,” Skip replied.

“Huh. There’s unspeakable horror – for real, this time,” Lorne observed thoughtfully.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Angel commented. “Cordy was made a higher being because she proved herself to the Powers by bearing their visions. This couldn’t have –”

“Unless it maneuvered her to inherit the visions in the first place,” Wesley interrupted.

“Uh-oh, better step on it,” Skip commented. “The rubes are catching up.”

“It wasn’t just her ascension. Everything that’s happened to Cordy in the past few years, all of it, was planned,” Angel finished the extrapolation.

“Do you really think it stops with her, amigo? Do you have any concept of how many lines have to intersect in order for a thing like this to play out, how many events have to be nudged in just the right direction?” He looked at Lorne. “Leaving Pylea.” He glanced at Gunn. “Your sister.” His gaze passed over Fred. “Opening the wrong book.” He pointedly stared at Wesley. “Sleeping with the enemy.” After giving it all a moment to sink in, he chuckled mirthlessly. “Gosh, I love a story with scope.”

“No way,” Gunn protested. “We make our own choices.”

“Yeah, sure; cheese sandwich here, when to floss, but the big stuff, like two vampires existing in the same plane with souls? She’s not the only one either. There are more people like her, all over the world.”

“Being inside a human makes it vulnerable, doesn’t it?” Angel asked. “That’s why it had to stay hidden, why it needed to create something stronger to pour itself into.”

“Wait. So, the big nasty inside of Cordelia is going to give birth – to itself?” Gunn grimaced at the image that created in his head.

“Not so much ‘give birth’ as use her up until there’s nothing left then take over,” Skip clarified. “That’s why it’s called possession.”

“How do we stop it?” Angel demanded.

“That’s easy, slick. All you gotta do is find Cordelia and chop off her head,” Skip replied matter-of-factly.

“There has to be another way,” Angel declined that as the only answer.

“Sure,” Skip assented, nodding. “Stab her in the heart, kidney, couple pokes in the lung–”

“A way that _won’t_ kill Cordy in the process,” Angel interrupted tersely.

“Takes a whole lot of cramming to get that much sweetness into a human. It’s in every hair, every cell, every molecule of Cordelia’s body – and it ain’t letting go,” Skip explained.

“What happens to Cordy then?” Fred asked apprehensively.

“She just becomes an empty vessel until it’s bored and moves on,” Skip replied.

“It’ll kill her?” Angel asked.

“Or she’ll end up in a coma,” Skip retorted.

“What do you wanna do?” Wesley asked Angel.

“The only thing he can do,” Skip cut in. “Kill the woman he loves to save the world. Times like this – really has got to suck being you.”

“How do I find her?” Angel asked, but Skip declined to answer. “How?!” Skip remained closed-lipped and impassive. “Fine.”

Angel grabbed a weapon and his coat. “Wes, start working on a locator spell. When you find her, call me.” With that order, he headed out of the door. He punched a number into his cell that he thought he’d never use. A former client he helped to clean out a vampire nest a few years back, to reclaim his friend’s watch, was actually a supernatural hunter. That was to say, the guy hunted things that were supernatural, not that he was supernatural in any way, himself. There was a remote possibility that he might know a means by which to exorcise, or otherwise get rid of the thing controlling Cordelia.

 _“This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0925. He can help.”_ Angel disconnected then punched in the alternate number.

_“Yeah, who’s this?” a husky voice answered._

“Hello? My name is Angel, I run a private detective agency in Los Angeles. We investigate the paranormal, and a few years ago I worked with your father on a hunt. I need help with an anti-possession spell.”

_“Well, I’m nowhere close to California right now, but I have a brother in college, in Palo Alto. Haven’t spoken to him in a year or so, but maybe he can help you.”_

“Thanks,” Angel said, memorizing the third alternative phone number and address before hanging up. He slid into his black, 1967 Plymouth Belvedere GTX convertible and sped out of the parking space.

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_ **

“Do you think he’s really going to do it?” Fred asked. “Kill Cordelia, I mean?”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” Wesley replied glumly.

**************************

**_Palo Alto, California, Stanford University_ **

Angel stood in a copse of ornamental trees, cloaked by their deeper shadows. According to the woman in the admissions department, Sam Winchester was tall, dark, and lanky, and took classes for pre-law in the building adjacent to where Angel stood, looking for him.

Half an hour later, when classes let out, a tall young man with dark brown hair that curled around his ears, and bangs in his Labrador puppy-like eyes, walked outside with a stack of books under one arm and a pretty, petite blonde under the other. Angel could tell the man was listening to her conversation with only half an ear while his dark, intelligent eyes maintained constant vigil, restlessly roaming the people and campus – alert and wary.

Angel walked through the copse, back to his car, following Sam back to his dorm, where he waited patiently until midnight, when most of the lights went out, watching the light from Sam’s room on the fourth floor – and finally getting out of his car. He jogged effortlessly across the street and down the steps. Opening the door at the bottom, he walked swiftly up the four flights of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a registrar of the rooms with appointed names. Finding Sam’s, he slipped down the hall until he found the appropriate door.

Inside, lying in bed, Jess finished reading a chapter of her homework, set aside the book on her nightstand, and turned out the light. She barely made a sound when she slipped out of bed, tiptoed across the room, and moved up close behind Sam, who was poring over his own homework at the desk.

“Are you coming to bed soon?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder.

“Yeah, in a bit. I have a couple of more pages to go through,” Sam replied automatically, without looking back at her.

Jess hugged his shoulders from behind, kissing his cheek. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Sam turned his head to look at her then, giving her a small smile. “I won’t.”

About thirty minutes later, Sam was nearing the end of his assignment when there was a knock on the door that startled him out of his concentration. He rose quickly, glancing over his shoulder at Jess, who was sleeping soundly, before hurrying to open the door before a second knock threatened to wake her.

Opening the door, he discovered the late night visitor was a dark-haired man about his brother’s height, but broader through the shoulders, standing on the other side of the threshold dressed all in black.

“Can I help you?” Sam asked, wondering what brought this man to his door at this hour, but assuming he'd gotten the wrong room.

“I hope so. I have a possession problem and Dean said you might be able to help,” Angel told him bluntly, seeing no reason for subterfuge.

“Dean? When did you –? Where is he? Is he okay?” Sam asked worriedly.

“He’s fine, I guess, but nowhere near here. At least, that’s what he told me when I called him,” Angel replied. “Look, a friend of mine is possessed and I need –”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what Dean told you, but I don’t do that kind of thing anymore,” Sam apologized, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. _How did this guy know what we do at all? Why did Dean tell him where to find me?_

Angel sighed. “I tried calling John –”

“You know my dad?” Sam interrupted, surprised.

“Yeah, we worked on a case a few years back. Anyway, I got his voicemail which told me to call Dean, but when Dean said he couldn’t help because he was preoccupied –”

Sam snorted at that, imagining just what, or _who,_ Dean could be preoccupied with.

“He told me to contact you,” Angel finished.

“Sorry my brother couldn't help you.” Sam apologized again. “What was the nature of your problem again?”

“A friend of mine is possessed, and I need a spell to get rid of it. This thing seems to have hitched a ride when she came back from Heaven,” Angel explained.

“She – returned from Heaven? How? Did you use an incantation? Make a deal with a Crossroads demon?” Sam's questions were fired like accusations.

“No.” Angel was surprised by the youth's vehemence. “She was just standing in the lobby of my hotel when my co-workers and I got back from another case. She had a case of amnesia, but a friend of ours performed a memory spell and it woke up this – _thing_ , I guess. Anyway, I’m sure you’ve seen the never-ending midnight in L.A. on the news; that was a byproduct of this thing, which was also controlling a big beast made of rock. Listen, it’s an even longer story, but the short of it is – I need to dispossess her of this demon, or whatever it is. So, can you help me or not?”

“Wait here,” Sam told him, walking away, leaving the door ajar.

**************************

Sam tried to be as quiet as possible while packing a few things for what he hoped would be a short trip, but Jess turned over in her sleep, waking and looking up at him blearily.

“Are you coming to bed?” she asked.

“Not yet. Someone’s waiting for me, actually. A friend of my father needs help, and Dean sent him to me,” Sam replied quietly, his back to her as he slid a large, hook-shaped knife into his bag of supplies, thinking, _better safe than sorry_.

 _That_ woke up Jess, and she sat up in bed. “Your brother, Dean?”

“Yes,” Sam replied.

“How long are you going to be gone?” she pursued information.

“A day or two at most – probably,” Sam tried to sound reassuring. He turned around then, looking earnestly at her. “Everything’s going to be fine, really. I’ll be back here before you have time to miss me.”

“What makes you think I’ll miss you?” she asked with false coquettishness.

Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her deeply. “You’d miss me,” he teased with playful assurance before picking up his bag and walking out of the room, closing the door behind him.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Wine Cellar at Shadow Valley Vineyards_ **

Buffy cautiously descended the steps into the wine cellar, followed by four of the potential Slayers; Molly, Kennedy, Rona and Chao-Ahn.

Molly looked around apprehensively. “What is this place?”

“Looks like an old vineyard,” Buffy observed.

“An evil vineyard, huh?” Kennedy remarked skeptically.

“Like **_Falcon Crest_** ,” Spike added as he followed behind them.

“Stay alert, you guys. Bringers are here – somewhere,” Buffy cautioned as she peered into the deeper shadows. “Just need to find out where.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Spike postulated, but before he could say more, if that was his intention, a group of the harbringers surged out of the shadows from behind the barrels of wine, attacking the surprised group.

The fight was evenly matched, each side delivering equal damage until, as suddenly as they'd appeared, the harbringers melted back into the shadows. Another shadow separated from the gloom and Caleb sauntered into the light.

“Well, now, you girls are just burning with righteousness, aren’t you?” he commented with a smirk. “Problem is, you think you’re blazing like suns, when really you’re burning like matchsticks in the face of the darkness. You having fun? Now, I hope my boys haven’t worn you out too much – I need you fit for when I purify you.”

“Save the sermon, _padre_ ,” Buffy sighed, annoyed. “I heard you have something of mine.”

Caleb chuckled as if he was in on a joke no one else knew. “Well, I do now. You liked my little message, did you? You know, I ruined a perfectly good knife on that girl, got her soiled blood all over the place. I may have to get a new truck.” Buffy looked taken aback at his lack of concern for human life, and she remained statue-still as he took a step closer, examining her features. “So, you’re the Slayer? _The Slayer_. The strongest, the fastest, the most aflame with the most precious invention of all mankind – the notion of goodness. The Slayer must indeed be powerful.” He looked at her reverently before, with a single, powerful punch, he sent Buffy flying across the room. He looked around at the others who were staring at him in shock. “So, what else you got?” he asked smugly.

Spike’s human face slipped into his demonic visage and he lunged at Caleb, who easily shoved him down. Spike started to rise, but Caleb head-butted him then threw him across the room into a huge wine storage tank which burst apart, spilling its contents across the floor in an ominous crimson flood. Kennedy and the other Potentials surged forward to join the fight.

Amidst the harbingers that were surging out of the shadows to fight the Potentials, Caleb single-handedly incapacitated them all. He punched Kennedy with such force that she flew back into a stack of wine barrels. When Rona charged forward to aid her fallen friend, Caleb cut her off. She swung a spiked baseball bat at him, but he caught it and stared into her eyes.

“Miss, I do believe you have your own problems you should be worrying about,” Caleb remarked – just before snapping her arm with laughable ease that sent her reeling back in agony. He was about to engage Molly when he saw the second wave of fighters arrive, led by Xander, who was armed with a bow. An arrow was already embedded in a staggering harbinger. “Oh, good. There’s more of you.”

Faith charged Caleb at the same moment that Xander saw Buffy lying unconscious against the wall where she'd fallen when Caleb threw her. Xander ran to Buffy, fighting off harbingers, as he made his way to her side.

Holding a knife in each hand, Faith slashed at Caleb over and over, but she was unable to penetrate his defenses.

Looking her up and down, Caleb observed, “Well, you’re the other one, aren’t you? You’re Cain to her Abel.” Faith hurled a knife at Caleb, which he dodged with inhuman ease. “No offense meant to Cain, of course.”

Faith lunged at Caleb with her other knife, but he grabbed her arm, twisted and crossed it with her other arm, immobilizing her, but she still continued to glare at him. He applied pressure, squeezing her hands until she was forced to drop the knife. Faith kneed him in the crotch, causing Caleb to relax his grip just enough so that she could slip his grasp before spinning and backhanding him across the face.

“I never was much for the Good Book,” Faith declared through gritted teeth.

“Oh, it has its moments. Paul had some good stuff, for instance, but overall I find it a tad complicated,” Caleb casually observed, slapping Faith. “I like to keep things simple.” He kicked Faith across the room, into a stack of wine barrels, with demon-like strength. “Good folk, bad folk.” Chao-Ahn swung at Caleb, but he grabbed her sword then her face. “Clean folk, dirty folk –” Caleb snapped Chao-Ahn’s neck and dropped her to the ground.

Seeing Caleb kill the girl, Molly screamed, “No!”

“Yes,” Caleb contradicted, walking toward her.

Xander crouched at Buffy’s side, guarding her as she recovered, waiting for her to get back to the fray. She struggled to rise and ordered, “Xander, get them out of here. We have to retreat. _Do it_.”

Xander reluctantly nodded, getting up and leaving her side. Caleb stalked menacingly toward Molly, who slowly backed away, her face a mask frozen with fear. At the last moment, she drew back her arm to stab him, but he grabbed her wrist with one hand and her neck with the other. Buffy got to her feet just as Caleb squeezed Molly’s neck, lifting her clear from the floor. Buffy fought to get to her, but harbingers kept attacking, slowing her down.

“What can I say? I work in mysterious ways,” Caleb declared, before he stabbed Molly then opened his hand, letting go of her neck, dropping her on the ground. “Also some fairly straightforward ones.”

Enraged at seeing what he did to Molly, Buffy charged Caleb, lashing out furiously, avoiding his punches with greater expertise, and landing a few of her own. One of her punches contained enough power to send him flying across the room.

Before she could pursue Caleb, clearly single-minded in her desire to finish him off, Spike grabbed her arm. “We’re _all_ leaving. _Now_!” And he dragged Buffy away from the fight.

Xander hurried to Kennedy’s side, crouching. “Are you okay?” When she nodded, he told her, “Okay, let’s go.” He helped her to her feet, noting that Spike had come back and was escorting Rona out of the building. “Let’s go!” Xander shouted, waving at the others.

Caleb grabbed Xander, turning him around so that he was facing Caleb. “You’re the one who sees everything, aren’t you?” He drew back his hand in front of Xander’s face, the young man staring as if he was a cobra hypnotized by a snake charmer. “Let’s see what we can’t do about that,” the evil priest commented casually before plunging his right thumb into Xander's left eye, gouging it out.

Blood coursing down his cheek, Xander screamed in agony, drawing Spike's attention. The platinum blonde vampire charged Caleb, knocking Xander free from the priest's grip. Blinded by pain and blood, Xander stumbled back, falling to the floor before a rack of wine barrels. Buffy and Spike rushed to Xander’s side, lifting him to his feet and carrying him out of the cellar, one supporting each of his arms.

Caleb sat up, but didn't pursue them as they struggled up the stairs. He rose slowly, with an unhealthy, knowing smile, watching them leave.

**************************

**_A Warehouse Somewhere in Los Angeles, Night_ **

Cordelia dragged the virgin girl across the concrete floor, into the center of the circle where she'd been chanting earlier. The girl looked up in a confusion of fear to see Cordelia swinging a huge butcher knife toward her.

“Oh, my god, no! Don’t –!”

The girl’s horrified pleas abruptly ended when Cordelia drove the thick blade heavily into her chest, slicing straight to her heart with a meaty _thwunk_. There was a sound like spattering raindrops as Cordelia struck the killing blow, the girl collapsing in the middle of the circle.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cordelia remorselessly asked herself.

Kneeling, she placed the palm of her hand in the crimson ichor pooling around the dead girl. Then she rose, returning to her scrying bowl, continuing to chant, “Vanu’esh. Katahn darh’im. Vajra’ha’esh.” Suddenly, she smiled with twisted exultation. “It’s coming; the beginning of a new world.”

“Or not.”

Cordelia turned to find Angel and another man standing behind her. Angel carried a sword in his hand with loose confidence. Sam held a hook-shaped knife in one hand and an open notebook in the other.

“You’re not Cordelia,” Angel stated flatly.

“When are you going to get it through your Neanderthal head that I _am_ Cordelia?” she asked, starting forward, only to trip a wire which caused a torrent of salt to rain down in a circle around her. “What is this? What are you doing to do?” she challenged.

“Something that has to be done. I’m so sorry,” Angel replied. “Sam?”

Sam looked down at his notebook, reciting in Latin, “Regna terrae, cantata deo, psallite domino, tribuite virtutem deo, exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incuriso infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, onmis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo, perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae.” A gust of wind circled through the room, teasing at the hair of the men and woman. “Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei. Contremisce et effuge. Invocato a nobis sancto et terribile nomine. Quem inferi tremunt. Ab insidis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias, libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.” Cordelia’s face and body began trembling and contorting. “Ut inimicos sanctae ecclesiae humiliare digneris, to rogamus audi. Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos, terribilis deus do sanctuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribuite virtutem et fortitudinem plebi suae, benedictus deus, gloria patri.”

Cordelia threw back her head, screaming in agony, muscles in her neck corded, spine arched to point of snapping. The evil entity burst from her stretched mouth in a black cloud of smoke, hitting the ceiling of the room before escaping through the doorway – vanishing.

Cordelia dropped to the floor like an unstrung marionette, unconscious.

Angel lowered his sword, cautiously approaching her inert body. Laying aside the sword, he knelt beside her and felt her neck for a pulse, finding a faint rhythm.

“She’s still alive,” Angel announced, sliding the sword through his belt then picking up Cordelia, cradling her against his broad chest.

“That’s good. Most demons use up a host’s body, burn it out – in my experience,” Sam told him, somehow feeling slight in comparison to Angel, who was actually his brother's height, but broader.

“Thank you, for helping me. If there’s anything I can do for you or your family in return –” Angel offered.

"You’re welcome,” Sam interrupted, thinking of Jess and only wanting to get back to her arms.

They walked out of the building together, Angel carrying Cordelia with a quiet air of triumph to his stride.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Night_ **

Buffy walked through her living room, which was currently filled with potential Slayers who were tending to the wounded, including Kennedy. Buffy looked away from the chaos and Dawn watched her sister walk out of the room. A moment later she heard the front door close as Buffy left the house – and all of them.


	18. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  __

Chapter 65: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 15)

**_Sunnydale Memorial Hospital_ **

After Buffy’s walk to the hospital through the melee of standstill-rush hour traffic doing its best to imitate bumper cars to get out of the city, and Willow and Giles had spoken to police in which Willow used a spell to make the officer believe they were inspectors from Interpol – now they were both at Xander’s bedside.

Xander’s left eye is covered with a bandage. Willow sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand. In all the years they’d known each other, Xander almost looked alien to her with only one eye.

“The doctors said that you should expect to see some bruising when you remove the bandages,” Buffy said, standing on the other side of him. It hurt to look at Xander now, almost like staring at the sun without shades. “Uh, bruising around the – area.” She cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “The, uh, bone structure and musculature was hit pretty hard.”

“Okay,” Xander said trying to sound accepting of his fate as a one-eyed observer of the group. He could tell Buffy and Willow was doing everything to keep it together. Other than asking how he was doing, Willow hadn’t talked much, just held his hand. Buffy shifted around like she was under a spotlight interrogation.

“Um, also they said that the – the meds may cause you some stomach discomfort, so we’re going to have to be careful with your diet,” Buffy continued.

Xander gave a nauseous expression at that. “I can’t taste anything – right now anyway. I keep waiting for my other senses to improve fifty percent. Yeah, they should kick in any day now.”

Buffy gave him a small smile of encouragement. “Well, we’re looking at a possible release as early as tonight. Um, we’re just waiting for your labs to get back, and Dr. Kallet said that should be a couple of hours.”

“That’s great,” Xander sounded dispassionate, though he was happy to get out of the hospital – the sooner the better.

Buffy nodded. “Okay. Um, I think we’re all caught up then.” She held a set of files out that Willow had magically gleaned from the police station earlier. “Thank you for this. This was really great work.”

Willow frowned, disappointed at the dismissive tone in Buffy’s voice. “Oh. I thought we were going to . . .” She glanced at Xander then at Buffy. “There were going to be card games.”

“Oh, no, I just – I should really get back,” Buffy gestured toward the door. She had a houseful of strange Potentials. Who knew what was getting broken or stolen when the girls didn’t have anything constructive to do? Buffy’s mouth because a grim line at Willow’s heartbroken expression. “I want to get everyone started on this file. I think we’re really close to something,” she said, trying to sound upbeat.

Xander nodded. “It’s okay. It’s gotta be done. And I might see you tonight, without depth perception, of course, but . . . still.” He smiled at her before she walked out the door, file in hand.

Willow squeezed Xander’s hand. “So, I guess you’re stuck with me then, huh?” Trying to sound chipper, she suggested, “Let’s order some cherry-flavored off-brand gelatin and then I think we’ll be up for a rousing game of –”

“I might need a parrot,” Xander cut in.

Willow looked thrown at that offhanded comment. “Huh?”

“To go with the eye patch, to really complete the look. I think I still have that costume from Halloween last year,” Xander explained.

“Yeah, and don’t underestimate the impact of a peg leg,” Willow said sadly, near the verge of tears. “Maybe the hospital can hook you up with a nice one. Maybe they a 2-body-oarts-for-the-price-of-one kind of deal.”

“Oh, you know what the best part is?” Xander asked. “No one will ever make me watch **_JAWS_** in 3-D again.”

“Yeah, and,” Willow tried to smile even though she wanted to break down and sob her heart out. “You’ll never have to . . .” She sucked in a deep breath to stifle the tears as they welled up in her eyes. She squeezed Xander’s hand tighter.

Xander sighed as he saw the tears threatening to fall. “Oh, Willow . . . please don’t.”

Willow looked down, trying to keep her tears from falling. She was desperately trying not to make a scene, for Xander’s sake.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence_   
**

Buffy walked into her house and shut the door. There was no one in the near vicinity. “Hey, who’s here?” she called out.

Dawn walked into the room, concern written all over her face. “Hey, Buffy, how’s Xander?”

Faith, Kennedy, and Amanda walked into the dining room. Faith was eating a bag of potato chips.

When Buffy looked surprised to see her there, Faith said, “All Spike has is spicy hot wings and blood with some kind of wheat cereal.”

Buffy scrunched her nose up in distaste at that and answered Dawn, “He’s doing really well. He’s ready to come home, I think.” She smiled reassuringly at Dawn and put the file on the table, opening it.

“Whatcha got?” Faith inquired, abandoning the chips for the moment.

“Info that Giles and Willow were about to pull off the police database,” Buffy replied. “We figured with Caleb’s, you know, overt religiosity thing if we want to learn more about him, let’s find out where he’s been.”

Faith scanned a few pages of the file. “‘Incidents of violence and vandalism connected to California religious institutions in the last ten years.’” She glanced up at Kennedy, “Looks like this gives us a place to start.”

“Yeah. I figure we start with California. If we don’t find anything there, we’ll expand the search. But a guy like Caleb didn’t just get in the game. He’s been playing for a while, and I want to know where. Whatever it takes.” Buffy turned to Dawn. “Are you good to help research?”

“Well, I was going to do lots and lots of homework, but darn the luck, they went and canceled school.” Buffy handed over a stack of papers. Quietly, she added, “So looks like I got the time.”

“Good,” Buffy said.

Dawn sat down at the table with the sheaf of paper. “Hey, Buffy . . . h-how was Xander’s mood, you know, exactly?” Buffy busied herself with the rest of the file, refusing to look at her sister. “And did you get a chance to talk to the doctor about the meds? Because it seemed like –”

Taking pity on Buffy, Faith distracted Dawn’s inquisition. “Hey, pipsqueak, why don’t you go get some of the stuff you’ve already gotten from Giles?”

Dawn took the hint. “Or, um, we can talk about this later, maybe.”

Buffy still refused to look at her. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right back,” Dawn said, leaving the room.

Turning back to the matter at hand she addressed Faith, “Try to find anything that looks like Caleb, his church, his ring . . .”

“His ability to render a slayer useless in just one punch,” Kennedy added without thinking. Buffy looked up at her, hurt written on her face. Faith frowned at Kennedy. Even with all she’d done to Buffy in the past, she wouldn’t have gone that far. Seeing Faith’s disapproval, Kennedy backtracked, “I didn’t – that was stupid. I don’t know why I said that.”

Between having one of her best friends in the hospital and Kennedy’s verbal accusation, the day was becoming a little too much. Stifling tears, Buffy stood up. “It’s okay. Um . . . you know, I-I have to go to the school to pick up the rest of my stuff.”

Kennedy stood up to apologize. “I really didn’t mean –”

“It’s fine,” Buffy cut her off. “Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Then as an afterthought, she asked, “Isn’t Anya doing that thing for you guys today?”

“Yeah. We were,” Kennedy replied. “We probably should head down there now.”

Buffy gave her a small smile. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.” Kennedy and Amanda left the room. Buffy addressed Faith, “See that everyone else gets started on this.”

“Yeah,” Faith acknowledged and started reading through the files as Buffy left the house.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale High School_   
**

Buffy walked through the empty halls pasted the cleaned-out lockers. She walked into the school office to her old cubicle and sat at her old desk. She picked up a framed picture of her, Willow and Xander, hugging back in high school. They looked so happy in the picture, smiling in the sunshine. Buffy reverently touched Xander’s face with two good eyes and sniffled.

“Oh, now, look . . .” a deep voice commented. Buffy looked up to see Caleb standing in front of her desk, shocked that her Slayer senses didn’t detect him. Caleb continued to taunt her, “Things don’t go exactly your way, so here come the waterworks. Ain’t that just like a woman?”

“Get out of here,” Buffy said in a calm, deadly voice, forced to ignore the want to cry over Xander.

“Now, now, little girl,” Caleb said in false placation. “Manners. I do imagine that firebrand tongue of yours has enflamed many a man, weak as they are.” Caleb turned around looked at his surroundings appraisingly. “This here’s a, uh . . . public school, ain’t it? Kind of deserted. Only just, I suppose. Folks work so hard at keepin’ the Lord out, and look what happens in return.” Caleb remained still as Buffy rose to her feet and backed up to a filing cabinet. “He abandoned you.” Buffy blindly reached for a drawer in the cabinet. “Not that He could do you much good now, anyway –” Caleb turned around in time to see Buffy trying to reach into the cabinet for something. “Ah, ah, ah.” His tone turned condescending, “Wouldn’t do that were I you, sweet pea. Fightin’ back didn’t do you much good last time, did it? And how is poor, sweet Xander? Let him know he’s in my prayers, and any time he’s willin’, I’m ready to . . .” He made a poking gesture. “Finish the job.”

“Go near Xander again, and I _will_ end you,” Buffy threatened.

Caleb grabbed the edge of the desk and pushed it over violently, and walked purposefully toward her. “Mind your manners. I do believe I did warn you once. You’re angry . . . frustrated, scared. I like that in a girl. You really should relax a little. Look at where you are. History’s going to look back at you, at me, at this place, and they’re going to see the glory. Great things are happening now, right here. This school, the seal . . . it’s going to be a part of this great sweeping tide of change, and you’re going to be part of it. Now, why would you want to miss that? More importantly, why would you want to get in its way?”

Buffy scowled at him. “I guess I’m just ornery.” In a blink she punched him in the face.

Caleb staggered back a little, laughing. “Ha ha ha! Oh, I knew you’d be a wild one –”

Buffy kicked him, but he grabbed her leg and pushed her down. She kicked his shins, but he picked her up off the ground by her neck.

“I’m going to take such sweet pleasure in taming you,” Caleb said before he threw her through the window. She landed across the hall, unconscious. Caleb walked over and looked down at her inert body. “I’ll see you soon, little lady.” He strolled away and out of the building.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Night_   
**

Fred obsessively gathered up books from the floor as Lorne sat on the desk straightening the banker’s lamp on it.

“We should’ve done this a long time ago,” Fred said sardonically. “I don’t know what I was thinking letting these books be all unorganized.”

“Well, one does tend to let the housekeeping slide during an Apocalyptolite,” Lorne retorted as he turned the desk lamp on. “Hey, honey, all this to-ing and fro-ing is making me edgy . . . er.”

“What’s that?” Fred asked as she heard a buzzing noise.

Lorne listened for a second and shrugged it off. “Oh relax. It’s just a buzz saw. Nothing to get worked up over. It’s Gunn and Wesley down in the basement. They’re dismembering that armor-plated demon, Skip.”

“Oh, right,” Fred sighed. “There’s been an awful lot of dismembering going on in that basement lately, if you ask me.”

“Well, it _has_ been a busy month,” Lorne pointed out.

“God, why’d it have to be her?” Fred pondered out loud.

“I think you skipped a groove, darlin’,” Lorne said confused.

“Cordelia. Why couldn’t the Beastmaster have chosen some horrible, evil, awful person to be its vessel,” Fred explained.

“Well, that wouldn’t have been much in the way of camouflage,” Lorne said.

“He’s been gone so long,” Fred said shifting focus midstream again.

“Y-you shifted gender pronouns, sweetheart. Not that I’m judging –” Lorne said raising his hands in a placating gesture.

“Angel,” Fred said, exasperated that Lorne couldn’t keep up. “Do you think he found her?”

“Well, uh . . .” Lorne was still trying to come up with an answer when – 

“Or maybe he got there too late, and she did something so awful it couldn’t be undone,” Fred continued as if Lorne hadn’t spoken at all.

“And by that, you must mean –?” Lorne asked confused. He shook his head and sipped his drink waiting for Fred to stop freaking out.

“Skip said the Beastmaster was using Cordelia until there was nothing left and there was more out there like her, it, whatever. What if Angel didn’t get there in time to stop it? Or, worse, what if he did get there in time? Do you think he’d actually . . . you know?”

“Dismember her?” Lorne provided with a nervous chuckle.

“Would Angel really kill Cordelia?” Fred finally asked, finally ended her tirade.

“To save the world?” Lorne inquired.

Fred happened to look out the office window into the lobby. “Oh my God!”

“Okay, another transition I wasn’t expecting, but still . . .” Lorne said and followed her gaze. He followed as she ran out into the lobby.

Angel had walked down into the lobby carrying an unconscious Cordelia by the time Fred and Lorne made it over to him. He laid Cordelia down on one of the couches.

“Oh, my God, Cordelia,” Fred exclaimed as she looked down at her friend. She glanced up at Angel. “She’s not –”

“No, she’s not dead. She’s just resting. She’s in a peaceful place. I think,” Angel replied.

Just then, Wesley and Gunn appeared from the basement and joined them in observing Cordelia’s body.

“Were you too late?” Wesley asked inquisitively.

“No, we got there just in time,” Angel said offhandedly.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Gunn asked.

“I made a call to an old friend who knows about demon possession. I couldn’t get a hold of him, but his son knew of an incantation that worked.”

“So, you killed it? It’s dead, right?” Gunn asked.

Angel backed up to an adjacent chair and sat down heavily. “It wasn’t so much a killing, but an exorcism that sent the demon or whatever it was back to hell.”

“Does that mean that Cordelia’s time as a higher being was really spent in hell?” Fred asked.

“Cordelia always maintained that she was on a higher plane of existence looking down on us. So we can safely assume she wasn’t in a hell dimension,” Wesley said.

“We’ll never know how it hitched a ride with Cordelia,” Angel shrugged.

“Okay, so where does that leave us?” Fred asked as she looked around at the group.

“We need to find suitable care for Cordelia,” Wesley said.

Angel picked up Cordelia’s body and carried her upstairs to her bedroom while the other members hashed out what to do about Cordelia’s care. As he laid her on the bed, he couldn’t help but feel grateful to Sam for what he did and vowed to find a way to repay the kid and his family back. Angel pulled out the chair to Cordelia’s dressing table, set it next to bed and sat down to keep vigil.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion, Night_   
**

Spike had just finished packing a box while nursing a glass of blood. Faith had left him alone that morning bitching about the lack of human food in the house. He hadn’t seen her since, so he’d been enjoying the blissful silence all day and getting amazing amount of boxes packed without the incessant conversation.

A buzzing at his hip distracted him from closing the box in front of him. Holding the glass in one hand, he fished his phone out of his pocked and flipped it open and answering it one-handed.

“’Lo?”

_“Spike?” Angel’s voice inquired._

“Oh, hey mate. How’s Cordelia? Have you all figured out what made her evil?” Spike asked.

_“Yes, she was possessed by a demon. I contacted someone and had her exorcised – after I located her, that is,” Angel replied._

“Located her?” Spike asked.

_“Yeah, while she was possessed, she threw this repelling spell at me and disarmed the others. It took a bit of time to find her. She’d already killed a girl. But the demon is out of her. She’s in a coma now.”_

“Well, it’s good the demon’s out,” Spike commented. There was a moment of silence and hearing Angel _not_ breathing. “Angel, mate, it’s okay. She’ll pull through. It takes a lot to keep her down and I don’t think even coma could keep her out indefinitely.”

_“Yeah, so what’s going on over there?” Angel asked to changed the subject._

“It’s a lot of hurry up and wait. So, I’ve been packing the mansion up. Did you already get those first three pallets of boxes?” Spike asked.

_“Yeah. We got them. They’re stuck in a hallway we don’t use,” Angel said._

“What? You can’t even give my stuff a proper room to sit in?” Spike asked incredulously.

_“It’s been kind of busy around here, what with Cordelia being possessed and me having to go to a hell dimension to bring that mercenary Skip back. Besides, I doubt Wesley, Lorne and Gunn want to help me lug fifty boxes up the damn stairs!” Angel said_

“You have vampire strength. Oh hey, here’s an idea: why don’t you get your elevator fixed! Who the bloody hell lives in a hotel without a working elevator!” Spike shot back.

_“It was jury-rigged to bring up the hot tub basin for Fred’s bathroom, but then someone went and blew a gaping hole in the elevator when Holtz made a surprise visit!” Angel said._

“And whose bloody fault was that?” Spike argued.

_“Well it was either the elevator got the brunt of the grenade or the lobby. Would you have rather lived without a lobby?!” Angel shot back._

In mid-tirade, Spike yelled out, “Hold your soddin’ horses.”

_“What’s that?” Angel asked._

“Someone’s at the bloody door,” Spike said as he moved to answer it.

Spike swung the door open to see two of the Potential Slayers on his doorstep. Emily and Kylie? Kayla and Shauna? Hell if he could remember their names. “Angel, I’ll have to call you back. Apocalypse is calling.”

_“Okay, watch yourself, Spike,” Angel said._

“Always, mate,” Spike replied and ended the call, sticking the phone back in his pocket. Turning his attention to the two girls who were staring at him wide-eyed, ready for him to attack, he asked, “What’s wrong now? Where’s the Slayer?”

The two girls looked at each other. “W-w-w-well, t-t-t-the –” one of them stuttered.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, spit it out,” Spike said impatiently.

“Buffy’s busy and Faith’s back at the house. Mr. Giles sent us to come get you,” the second girl said.

“Why’d he send you and not Faith?” Spike asked.

“F-F-F-Faith’s helping a group of us work out with the punching bag,” the first girl finally got out.

“Let me get my coat and weapons,” Spike said and shut the door in their faces.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence_   
**

Giles walked over to a writing desk in the living room and pulled a magnifying glass out of a drawer. A group of solemn-faced Potentials were either on the couch or the various chairs around the living room.

“See, it’s not about the hot pocket itself – even though it did have that new-and-improved thicker tomato sauce – it’s just the fundamental lack of respect,” Andrew whined as he followed Giles and Dawn around the room, still upset over his missing dinner.

“Shut up,” Giles snapped. “Pay attention.” Giles held the magnifying glass over the photo. “Dawn, what do you see?”

“What am I looking for?” Dawn asked as she took the items from him.

“On the back wall, a . . . knothole,” Giles confirmed.

Dawn held up the magnifying glass to the photo. She saw an imprint of what looked like Caleb’s ring in the wood on a wall next to a statue of Mary.

“That’s not a knothole,” Dawn said. She looked up at Giles. “Maybe this’ll help . . . if this does bring us closer to Caleb.

Faith walked into the room eating the aforementioned hot pocket. “Sounds like there’s news.” Andrew glared at her eating his food.

Just then two Potentials scurried through the front door well ahead of Spike who strolled in and shut the door. Walking into the living room, he said, “What’s up . . . Rupert?”

“Spike, I have a mission for you,” Giles said.

“Oh, really? ’Cause, you know, sometimes your missions end up with you trying to kill me,” Spike shot back agitated.

“This is bona fide . . . with real ramifications,” Giles said. “Take a look at this.” He handed Spike the photo and magnifying glass.

Spike saw the knothole just fine, but held the magnifying glass up to it for a better look. “Looks like our boy’s been here. You want me to go check it out?”

“I need someone who can take care of themselves in case Caleb has . . . left some souvenirs,” Giles said.

Spike shrugged and walked toward the door.

“Are we going to get to the food-stealing issue soon?” Andrew whined.

“Take Andrew,” Giles called after Spike.

“What?!” Andrew and Spike said simultaneous, incredulously.

“Well, you are always saying you want to get out of the house more,” Dawn said, addressing Andrew.

“Yeah, but –” Andrew started to say.

“There may be demons . . . lurking about. You never know. He’s a demon expert. He can help,” Giles said hurriedly. Anything to get Andrew’s incessant complaints to cease.

“Oh, please,” Spike scoffed. He doubted Andrew could fight his way out of a wet paper bag.

“Well, he can bring his pan flue thing along?” Giles suggested. Before anyone could object, he continued, “Excellent. Off you go.” He pushed Andrew forward to follow Spike out of the house.

“Maybe that will get us somewhere,” Faith acknowledged. “But in the meantime,” she looked around at the Potentials who were bored out of their skulls. “The troops here gotta sit and stew, feeling crappier by the minute.”

“We should keep them occupied,” Dawn commented.

Faith thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I know how to keep them occupied.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, The Bronze_   
**

Faith, Dawn and the girls were on the dance floor. Faith was dancing with four guys. A group of Potentials danced together. Dawn and Kennedy were dancing together.

“What kind of band plays during an apocalypse?” Kennedy shouted over the music.

”I think this band might actually be one of the signs,” Dawn shouted back.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence_   
**

Buffy walked through the front door and was greeted by an empty house.

“Hey, guys, how’s it –” She looked around and realized everyone was gone. “Going?”

Giles heard Buffy come in and broke away from his research to greet her at the dining room doorway. She was nursing a wound on her forehead. “Buffy. Are you hurt?”

“Oh . . .” Buffy pulled her hand back to see if there was any blood. “Caleb showed up at the school looking for seconds.”

“My God, is h-he –” Giles didn’t want to think about the possible scenarios that could have happened.

“Still able to make me see cartoon birdies all around my head?” Buffy finished for him. “You betcha. The short lack of consciousness was nice though. I feel rested.” She sat down at the dining room table littered with research books. “So . . . how did those police files work out? Were they helpful?”

“Uh . . . uh . . . yes,” Giles confirmed as he went back to his place at the table. “Very much so, I think. Um . . . there’s evidence that Caleb may have established a foothold up north.”

“That’s great,” Buffy sighed as she looked around waiting for one of the Potentials or Faith or even Andrew to show up. “That’s –”

“I, um . . . I sent Spike to look into it,” Giles said hurriedly, mumbling into his mug of tea as he drank.

“Spike?” That got Buffy’s undivided attention. “Is this a mission from which you intend Spike to return _alive_?”

“Yes,” Giles said as he set the mug down before adding distractedly, “I sent Andrew with him.”

Buffy pointedly glared at Giles. “Again I ask the question.”

“Buffy, you weren’t here. Decisions have to be made in your absence,” Giles said defensively.

“Yeah, well, those are the ones that have been scaring me,” Buffy snapped back.

“I did what I thought was right,” Giles said.

Buffy stood up again. “You sent away the one person that’s been watching my back – again. Angel sent him here to watch out for _me_ not _you_.”

“We’re all watching your back,” Giles said indignantly.

“Funny . . . that’s not really what it feels like,” Buffy turned and walked away.

“Buffy –” Giles called after her.

Buffy came back into the room. “Where did everybody go?”

“What?” Giles confused a little by the change in topic.

“Faith. The girls. Where are they?” Buffy demanded.

“Um . . . Faith thought that the girls could do with some time off their studies. I—I thought . . .” When Buffy crossed her arms over her chest waiting for an answer, Giles deflated a little. “She took them to the Bronze.”

Buffy shook her head, rolled her eyes and walked out the front door, slamming it shut.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery, Night_   
**

Caleb was in the wine cellar, tasting every barrel of wine. He held the glass up, moving it around to stir the spirits. “You know what I figured out tonight? Every high school in this country, from one end to the other, smells exactly alike. Now, why do you suppose that is?”

The First Evil walked out from the shadows wearing the likeness of Buffy. “And how was our best girl?”

Caleb smirked. “They always think they should put up a fight.”

“Did you lay the proper groundwork?” the First Evil asked.

“That I did. Reckon she got the message, even if she doesn’t know it yet. So now the big strong slayer goes back to those girls . . . she’s just so ready to walk them right into it. And all we have to do is give her that one final gentle . . .” he stuck his hand through the First Evil’s chest, “Nudge.”

“Excellent,” the First Evil said.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite, Night_   
**

Angel, Fred, Gunn, Lorne and Wesley gathered around Cordelia’s bed. She was laid out in the center. Wesley reached over and turned on the radio on the dresser. A newscaster was in the middle of delivering the day’s news.

_“After several weeks of sky-rocketing homicide rates, finally this week a dramatic decrease in southland murders. The Sheriff’s Department spokesman attributes the drop to their new “Tough on Crime” policy instituted last month –”_

Gunn reached over and turned off the radio. “A little credit wouldn’t suck.”

“So much for that nagging apocalypse,” Lorne commented.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, The Bronze, Night_   
**

Five police officers escorted Faith outside the back entrance with the Potentials watching from inside the door.

“I can tell you right now, I’m not going back to jail,” Faith said as she gently wrestled herself free from the officers’ grip. She walked back toward the door to go back inside the club, but an officer pulled the door shut from the inside.

“Who said anything about jail?” an officer sneered behind her.

Faith turned around to see three officers pointing their guns at her. Faith attacked them, knocking one officer down and punching the other two.

**************************

Inside the club, Dawn, Kennedy, Amanda, Rona and other Potentials were gathered around the back door to the Bronze. A police office holding a shotgun stood guard, preventing the girls from following Faith outside.

“Stay back,” the officer warned. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Dawn tried to do her best Buffy imitation and crossed her arms. “You can’t keep us in here.”

“It’ll be over before you know it,” the officer told her.

**************************

Outside the Bronze the tables had turned in the fight between Faith and the police. Faith lay on the ground as several officers beat her with their nightsticks. She kicked one of them in the ankle, knocking him down, giving her enough time and space to get to her feet. She kicked one officer away, but he returned the kick, pushing her forward. She punched him.

**************************

Inside the club, the police officer stood guard at the door with the shotgun, preventing the girls from going out to help Faith.

“Trust me – the best thing you can do is wait here,” he said, trying to sound threatening.

“Don’t listen to him,” Dawn countered. “He won’t hurt us. You know what? I’m just going to go borrow the phone.”

She started to walk away when the officer cocked the shotgun and shot at the lights, frightening the girls who screamed and ducked for cover.

“The best thing you can do is wait . . . here,” the officer stressed.

**************************

Outside the Bronze Faith overpowered one of the officers and was straddling him as he laid face-down on the pavement while she punched him. The other two officers pulled her off of him.

**************************

Inside the club, the Potentials were still trying to get out the back door to help Faith, but the officer continued to block their path.

“You’re going to have to shoot us all to stop us,” Kennedy challenged.

The officer smirked. “It doesn’t really bother me.”

“These cops are really getting’ hellmouthy,” Rona observed.

“Back up!” the officer barked.

“No!” yelled Amanda, who was normally quiet and shy, never wanting to make waves.

The other girls stared at her stunned she had spoken up at all.

“What?” the officer looked surprised.

Kennedy used the distraction as an opportunity to take the shotgun away from the officer and hit him in the face with the butt of the gun before pointing it at him. The officer knocked the gun out of Kennedy’s hands, but can’t grab it before Amanda knocked him in the head with a broom handle. On the floor, the officer tried to crawl away, but Rona and Chao-Ahn kicked him and then Dawn jumped on his back, kicking and screaming at him. Finally, the girls rushed out the door.

**************************

The girls rushed outside to find Faith on the ground, shielding herself with her arms over her face as the police have ganged up on her, beating her with their nightsticks. Kennedy and Amanda went up and threw them off Faith. Faith quickly got to her feet and joined the fight against the police. She kicked an officer against the hood of his patrol car, and grabbed the nightstick from another. She pressed it against her throat, and kicked him into a wall. He sunk to the ground unconscious.

Buffy rushed up to the melee. “Faith! What are you doing?”

Faith spared her a glance. “Just blowing off steam. Well, it started that way. Then the cops turned evil on us.”

The potentials gathered around the two slayers. “Girls, go home,” Buffy ordered. “I need to talk to Faith for a minute.”

“Buffy, we weren’t –” Dawn started to say.

“Dawn – you, too. Go,” Buffy said, nodding in the direction of home. The girls walked away and Buffy turned her attention to Faith. “What is this?”

“They needed a break, all right? They’ve been running themselves into the ground. Things just got out of hand,” Faith explained.

“Taking a break is one thing – I get blowing off steam – but they were fighting! And those girls were drunk! What were you thinking?!” Buffy scolded.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Faith shrugged.

“What if someone had gotten hurt?” Buffy asked.

“They didn’t!” Faith said.

“Faith, I need to know that these girls are going to be safe when I’m not around,” Buffy sighed.

“Look, no one got hurt, B. You don’t even know these girls. Maybe you should have a little more confidence in ’em, let them mess up sometimes, you know, get down and dirty. How the hell else are they going to learn?” Faith said.

“Learning from your mistakes is one thing,” Buffy conceded. “But you don’t throw children into –”

“They’re not children,” Faith corrected.

“That’s really isn’t the point,” Buffy said as she turned around and walked away.

“Yeah, what about the vineyard.”

Buffy stopped walking. “What?”

Faith walked closer to her. “How safe were they when you dragged them off to meet Caleb? How safe was Rona or Amanda or Molly?”

Enraged, Buffy punched Faith in the face, knocking her to the ground. With that, she turned and walked away. Faith touched her face and the bruise forming there as she watched Buffy leave, but didn’t follow.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Room, Night_   
**

Fred sat by the edge of the bed beside Cordelia’s unconscious body.

“Cordelia, it’s me. I’m here,” Fred said as if expecting her to answer. “Remember before the big brain suck and Lorne read you, and it was scary, headachy, pukiness?” Fred was silent for a while. “Cordelia, I wish you could –”

“I know what you’re thinking,” a deep voice said.

Fred turned to see Angel standing in the doorway behind her. She stood up. “You do?”

Angel walked into the room. “I can’t believe I almost . . .”

“But you didn’t. Whatever you and your friend did saved her,” Fred said.

“We don’t know about that. She’s in a coma because of what the Beastmaster tried to do with her. Who knows if she’ll ever wake up again,” Angel said as he looked down at Cordelia’s body laid out on the bed.

“People wake up from comas all the time. We’ll just have to wait and see,” Fred assured him.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Night_   
**

Faith sat on the railing of the front porch smoking a cigarette alone as Robin Wood walked up to the house.

“The big meeting hasn’t started yet, has it?” Robin asked in mock worry.

“God, I hope so,” Faith said as she blew out the smoke.

“Faith?” Robin queried.

Faith nodded. “You must be Principal Wood. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She took a drag on the cigarette.

Robin tilted his head and looked at her. “It hasn’t really started yet, has it? ’Cause I, uh – I hate being late.”

“The troops are still gathering so I think you’re safe,” Faith said.

Robin noticed the bruise from Buffy. “It looks like someone banged you up pretty well.”

“Yeah, cops,” Faith said. “Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Robin raised a brow.

“Yeah,” Faith said and pointed to her cheek. “This one’s from someone who just thinks she’s a cop. It’s my favorite of all my current bruises.”

“So someone who thinks she’s a cop, huh?” Robin perched on the railing. “You going to have to, like . . . ice her now or something like that?”

Faith grinned a little. “I’m not going to kill her. I wanted to, but didn’t. By the way, bully for me since no one else said it.”

“For what, not killing Buffy?” Robin asked.

“It’s a new thing I’m trying,” Faith said.

Robin grinned. “She told me about you.”

“Believe every word,” Faith said.

“So what changed? I mean . . . why didn’t you fight back?” Robin asked.

Faith shrugged. “Other things matter more.”

“I think you’re worried about her,” Robin observed.

Faith shook her head. “I think you need to brush up on your Buffy and Faith history.”

Robin chuckled. “All right, if you say so. But I read people pretty well. It’s a thing I do.”

Faith got to her feet. “You, uh, live around here, right?”

“Uh, no, not exact—Well, it’s the center of town, really,” Robin said.

“This town? Walking anywhere after dark is like an extreme sport. Someone who didn’t know you very well might think you were out looking for a fight or something.” She lightly punched him in the arm. “Maybe you got bigger issues than what’s wrong with B. I read people, too.” A car pulled into the driveway. “Xander’s home.” With that, Faith disappeared into the house.

**************************

**  
_A Mission Somewhere in California_   
**

Spike pushed open the creaky front door to the mission as Andrew stood nervously behind him. Spike heaved a sigh of relief when nothing jumped out. He walked inside followed by Andrew.

“No one’s here,” Andrew pointed out and shuddered. “These kind of places make feel funny inside.”

“I’ll buy that,” Spike commented. “You and me got something else besides the onion blossom in common after all.”

Someone jumped out of a closet as they walked past. They grabbed Andrew and pushed him against the wall.

“Spike!” Andrew squeaked.

Spike pulled the robed figure off of Andrew, and the figure punched Spike. Spike pushed the figure against the wall so hard they fell to ground. Spike pushed the hood off of figure’s face to reveal a heavyset man with a burn mark on his cheek. The mark looks like something Caleb made with his ring.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Night_  
**

There was a hastily decorated yellow banner painted with “WELCOME HOME” in big red letters hanging over the fireplace. Giles, Dawn and the Potentials were gathered in the living room as Buffy and Willow escorted Xander into the room. Robin followed, closing the door behind him. He stood next to Faith.

Xander looked around at everyone. “Oh, God.”

“We didn’t have time to do more,” Kennedy said apologetically. “You have to pretend there’s a big party here.”

Dawn went up to Xander and gave him a big, long, tight hug.

Xander returned the hug, addressing Kennedy, “That’s fine. Parties in this house, I usually end up having to . . . rebuild something.”

Buffy gave him a smile. “Welcome home, Xander. I wanted you to be here for this. I think you’ll be interested in what I found out.”

“W-what did you find out?” Willow asked.

“It’s about the cellar. Look, I know that night wasn’t fun for any of us . . . but I figured out some things about that place, and I realized now what we have to do.” She looked around at them all. Giles looked at her, concerned. “We’re going back in.”

**************************

**  
_A Mission Somewhere in California_   
**

Spike and Andrew recognized the shape of scar on the man’s cheek. Spike bent down to get a better look.

“Tell me what happened,” Spike said.

“Oh . . .” the man said, ashamed of the burn mark. He covered the scar with his hand.

“Hey!” Spike said louder to get his attention. “Are you part of Caleb’s faction?”

The man shook his head earnestly. “No! No!”

“Then tell me what happened,” Spike said.

“I c-can’t,” the man said weakly.

Andrew bent down to get into the man’s face. “‘Can’t’ is a four-letter word! I’m Andrew. I’ll be your bad cop this evening. You don’t start singing, my associate here –”

“We’re trying to fight him,” Spike cut in. “Caleb. We need your help.”

The man shook his head. “You can’t fight him. You can’t stop him. You can only run.”

Andrew crouched down again. “‘Run’ is a four-letter wor—a three-letter word.”

Spike stood to his full height and looked down on the man. “Talk.”

The man peered up at him. “I’ll do better. I’ll show you.” Spike offered the man his hand and helped him to his feet. “One night,” the man grabbed a lit candelabra. “Some time ago, a man arrived at our doors.”

“And you said, ‘come in, do some damage’?” Spike asked.

“We are – we are a benevolent order, and yes, we welcomed him. We offered to feed him . . . but he came for something else,” the man explained.

The man walked up to a statue of Mary in an alcove, just as seen on the picture than led Spike to the mission in the first place. The man touched a secret lever, causing the statue to swing out of the way, revealing a secret compartment behind it.

“Behind this, he revealed something even we didn’t know was here,” the man continued. “A secret room.” He stepped inside, Spike and Andrew followed him. “He was excited, talking the whole time . . . destiny, that sort of thing.”

“Yeah,” Spike acknowledged. “We hear he’s a real smooth talker.”

The man removed a tapestry from the wall, revealing an inscription behind it. “He was going on about this ancient inscription.”

“Neat,” Andrew said, his geek-boy radar going off.

“He read it . . . and he didn’t like what it said. His temper . . . he was the purest evil I’ve ever seen. He burned his mark upon me. And then I ran and I hid . . . and I listened to the others die,” the man said, ashamed he acted so cowardly he let his brethren be murdered while he hid.

“Running away . . . saved your life,” Andrew said. Spike took the candelabra from the man and walked up to the inscription. “What does it say?”

The inscription was written in Latin with Greek letters: _Non tibi est. Ei solae tractare licet._

“It is not for thee. It is for her alone to wield,” Spike translated.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Night_   
**

Buffy stood in the middle of the living room, addressing everyone.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I had a visit at the school today from Caleb,” Buffy said.

“Buffy, why didn’t you –” Dawn started to ask.

“I’m fine,” Buffy cut in. “I mean it wasn’t fun, but I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I-I figured something out. He kept making all this noise about the school.”

“Is it the seal again?” Robin asked.

“Do we need to try shutting it again?” Willow added.

“No, that’s just it. We’ve spent all this time worrying about the seal and the Hellmouth. Why isn’t Caleb guarding them? Why doesn’t he have someone there protecting it? Why is he camped out at the vineyard? The bad guys always go where the power is. So if the seal was so important to Caleb and the First, they would be there right now. They’re protecting the vineyard or something at the vineyard. I says it’s their power, and I it’s time we take it away from them,” Buffy explained.

Xander shook his head and looked down. Giles uncrossed his arms and sighed.

Standing beside Robin, Faith crossed her arms. “Or, in the alternative, how ’bout . . . we don’t? I mean, it’s a neat theory, B, but I’m not going back in that place, not without proof, and neither should you and neither should they.”

“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy,” Buffy said.

“I think Faith had the floor,” Robin cut in.

“Maybe it ends okay the way you want to play it, but maybe it doesn’t. And right now, I don’t think I want you playing the odds,” Faith said.

“Did you come here to fight?” Buffy challenged.

“Listen, we’re fighters, all of us, but you gotta give me something to fight, something real, not –” Faith said.

“Windmills,” Giles finished softly as he looked at Buffy.

“There is something there,” Buffy insisted.

“Maybe,” Giles acknowledged. “But we can’t be sure of that. This is a hell of a lot to ask.”

“Too much,” Robin added.

Buffy grinned nervously, looking around at her core group. “I-I don’t understand this. For seven years I’ve kept us safe by doing this – exactly this, making the hard decisions. And now, what – suddenly you’re all acting like you can’t trust me?”

“Didn’t you say to me today you can’t trust us?” Giles asked, reminding her of her earlier comment. “Maybe there’s something there that should be addressed.

Buffy glared at Giles. “Is that why you sent Spike away, to ambush me?”

Giles rolled his eyes and sighed. “Oh, come on.”

“You know what?” Rona spoke up. “I am sick of your deal with this Spike guy. This isn’t about him. This is about you. You’re being reckless.”

Buffy rounded on Rona. “What?”

“You are! I don’t even know you, and I can tell! You are so obsessed with beating Caleb, you are willing to jump into any plan without thinking.”

Buffy gritted her teeth. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

Kennedy stood up and stalked over to Buffy. “Well, that’s how it feels to us. People are dying.”

Willow stepped up to the girl. “Kennedy . . .”

Kennedy turned and snapped at Willow, “Why are you always standing up for her?”

“I’m not,” Willow said sadly.

“What do you mean, you’re not?” Buffy asked surprised.

“With everything that’s happened, I –” Willow shrugged. “I’m worried about your judgment.

Buffy looked around at the group. “Look, I wish this could be a democracy. I really do. Democracies don’t win battles. It’s a hard truth, but there has to be a single voice. You need someone to issue orders and be reckless sometimes and not take your feelings into account. You need someone to lead you.”

“And it’s automatically you,” Anya said softly, looking at Buffy. “You really do think you’re better than us.”

“No, I—” Buffy started to object.

“But we don’t know,” Anya continued as if Buffy hadn’t spoken. “We don’t know if you’re actually better. I mean, you came into the world with certain advantages, sure. That’s the legacy . . .”

“I—” Buffy tried to start again.

“But you didn’t earn it. You didn’t work for it. You’ve never had anybody come up to you and say you deserve these things more than anyone else. They were just handed to you. So that doesn’t make you _better_ than us. It makes you _luckier_ than us.”

“I’ve gotten us this far,” Buffy said.

“But not without a price,” Xander countered.

“Xander –” Buffy started to say.

“I’m trying to see your point here, Buff . . . but I guess it must be a little bit to my left . . .” He shook his head. “’Cause I just don’t.”

“Look, I’m willing to take strategy, okay?” Buffy said. “I’ll hear suggestions on how to break this down, but this is the plan. We have to be together on this or we will fail again.”

“We are clearly demonstrating that we are _not_ together on this!” Giles exclaimed.

“Which is why you have to fall in line!” Buffy commanded. “I’m still in charge here.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Rona asked with a sneer.

“Because I’m the Slayer,” Buffy replied.

“And isn’t Faith a Slayer, too?” Rona asked, gesturing toward the dark-haired girl.

“What?” Faith asked caught off guard. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. So not what I meant. I’m not in charge chick. I think B here needs to just . . . chill for a little bit, take a siesta or something. But I’m not the one you want.”

“Maybe we need a vote,” Kennedy announced. “To see who wants Faith to have a turn in charge.”

“No,” Buffy said sternly.

“No, what?” Kennedy challenged.

“No. You don’t get to vote until I’ve had my chance to pal around, you know, get everybody drunk. See, I didn’t get that this was a popularity contest. I should have equal time to bake them cookies, braid their hair –”

“Learn their names?” Faith suggested.

Buffy laughed cynically. “You’re just loving this, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea what I’m feeling,” Faith said angrily.

“You come in here, take everything I have . . .” Buffy said in a low, mean tone. “You did it before. Did you tell them that? Did you tell them how you used to kill people for fun?” Buffy whipped around to the assembled Potentials. “Hey, you guys think that’s nifty?”

“Buffy, that’s enough!” Giles barked.

“I didn’t come here to take anything away from you, but I’m not going to be your little lapdog, either,” Faith replied. “I came here to beat the other guy, to do right, however it works. I don’t know if I can lead. But the real question is . . . can you follow?”

“So we vote,” Robin said.

“Wait, guys –” Buffy looked around: Anya’s had crossed arms and stared back with pursed lips, Willow and Xander refused to look at her. “I can’t watch you just throw away everything that –” Dawn even refused to meet her eyes. “I know I’m right about this. I just need a little – I can’t stay here and watch her lead you into some disaster.”

Dawn stood up and walked up to Buffy, saying softly, “Then you can’t stay here. Buffy, I love you, but you were right. We have to be together on this. You can’t be a part of it.” Buffy blinked her eyes in disbelief. “So, I need you to leave. I’m sorry, but this is my house, too.”

Buffy looked around and saw the consensus. She quietly walked out the front door.

“Ding dong, the witch is dead,” Rona commented flippantly.

“Shut your mouth,” Dawn said in a low, angry tone.

**************************

Faith followed Buffy outside. Buffy stood on the porch with her back toward Faith.

“Hey, look, I swear I didn’t want it to go this way –” Faith started to say.

“Don’t,” Buffy said sternly.

“I mean it, I –” Faith tried again.

“Don’t . . . be afraid to lead them,” Buffy’s face was wet with tears. “Whether you wanted it or not, their lives are yours. It’s only going to get harder. Protect them,” She glanced at Faith over her shoulder. “But lead them.”

Faith walked back inside the house.

Her face tear-streaked, Buffy walked down the front sidewalk alone.


	19. Chapter 66-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  __

Chapter 66-A: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 16)

**_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Cordelia’s Suite_ **

Cordelia lay motionless on her bed, unconscious, and but for the rise and fall of her chest, could have been mistaken for a waxwork. The lamps around the room were turned to their lowest light settings, softly illuminating the room. Angel sat at her bedside and Fred stood next to him, watching over Cordelia.

“Do you think she feels anything, like heat or cold? After all, she’s –” Angel started to say.

“Brain dead?” Fred offered, and Angel winced at the thought that word brought to mind. “Sorry. The expression doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, does it?”

Cordelia’s hand gave a sudden spasm, clutching the bedcovers so tightly her knuckles went white – then it stilled and relaxed again.

“Oh my God! She’s awake,” Angel exclaimed excitedly, leaning closer to the woman. “Cordy? Cordelia?” Angel grabbed her hand, but it remained limp. “Can you hear me? We’re right here.” He turned to Fred, asking animatedly, “Did you see that? She moved her hand.”

“Angel, people in comas –,” Fred searched her brain for how best to let Angel down easily. “Sometimes their bodies just do things. They mumble words and even open their eyes, but it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re waking up, it's just their nervous system on auto-pilot.”

“But it could, right?” Angel asked hopefully. “I mean, stranger things have happened.”

“Like two vampires with souls, or Darla coming back to life as a human in a diseased body?” Fred suggested.

“Not the examples I was looking for, but yeah,” Angel acknowledged sadly.

“I know. Sorry,” Fred apologized again.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence_  
**

The Potentials, Giles, and the core group – minus Buffy, Spike and Andrew – were sitting together in the living room having a very disorganized discussion. Everyone was trying to talk over everyone else.

“Power to the people?” Giles scoffed at one of the outbursts. “You sound like a child of the seventies.”

“What we’re saying is we’re in charge of ourselves,” Kennedy insisted.

“Okay, you guys, let’s just try not to freak out,” Faith said, trying to move the conversation in one direction.

“All I’m saying is now that Buffy’s not here, we finally have some say in _how_ and _when_ we lose our necks,” Kennedy pointed out, trying to monopolize the conversation.

“Maybe you don’t have to be so blunt about,” Robin commented disapprovingly, gesturing a slicing motion in front of his neck, “the losing of the necks bit.”

“No, let the girl speak the truth,” Anya agreed empathically. “We’re all on death’s door repeatedly ringing the doorbell like maniacal girl scouts trying to make quota.”

Xander shifted uncomfortably in his seat – partly because of his injuries, and partly because he realized what a mistake it was to ostracize Buffy. After she walked out, the whole place dissolved into chaos, everyone wanting to decide the fates of everyone else. There was no voice of leadership in the shouting match trying to pass itself off as a discussion. “You know, I’m thinking that everyone here _shouldn’t_ have a say.”

“We just have to find some way of having constructive dialogue without going completely mad,” Giles observed.

“Do you know the parliamentary procedure?” Amanda offered. “’Cause that’s a convenient way of organizing –”

“I just wonder if those of us who have been here longer should have more a say,” Kennedy cut in, again trying to make herself the center of attention.

“Maybe we should break down into small groups so it wouldn’t be so chaotic,” Robin suggested, turning to Faith, whom he considered the next obvious choice as leader, not Kennedy, “What do you think?”

“When I was involved with the Model UN, we found the parliamentary procedure to be total lifesaver,” Amanda started to explain again.

While Amanda was explaining the parliamentary procedure, Giles leaned closer to Dawn and whispered, “She’s going to be fine. Really, it’s for the best.”

“Yeah? Then why I do feel like this?” Dawn replied guiltily.

“I hear what you’re saying, but –” Faith started to say.

“Shouldn’t we get down to business?” Kennedy asked, cutting off Faith in another attempt to take control of the conversation.

Willow sat back, watching the heated discussion play out with a roll of her eyes. “You guys, I think we’re wasting time arguing about how to argue.”

“Well, why don’t we –?” Amanda started to ask.

“Please do not mention _parliamentary procedure_ ,” a Potential, Vi, cut in.

“I second that,” Caridad, another Potential, said under her breath.

Faith stood up. “Everyone, listen to me. Just chill. All right? It’s been a long night, and I don’t know about you, but I’m wiped. Maybe we should catch some sleep and figure this out in the morning.”

“Do we really have time to waste?” Kennedy asked.

“Look, I understand you guys are wicked stressed,” Faith acknowledged. “Frankly, our situation blows. We’ve got to stay cool. That’s the only way we’re going to get through this. Can everyone handle that?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get some rest and then tomorrow, things won’t seem so –” Vi agreed just as the lights went out in the house and everyone jumped and gasped.

“The lights went out?” Caridad stated the obvious.

“I’ll get some candles – if we have candles,” Amanda volunteered.

“I’ll check the fuse box,” Kennedy offered as she started to stand.

Faith was looking out the front window. “Don’t bother. All the lights on the whole street just went out.”

“Which means?” Kennedy asked.

Faith glanced at the group. “That the people from the power company have got the hell out of Sunnydale.”

**************************

**  
_A Neighborhood Street in Sunnydale_  
**

The neighborhood through which Buffy currently trudged was the same as the last several blocks through which she'd walked, except that this one had a family packing their belongings into a minivan. She found it ironic that a town that had slept through so many supernatural catastrophes finally woke up just as it was all coming to an end and distantly wondered what had finally gotten through to them. She walked down the street with her arms crossed as if against a chill no one else could feel, or maybe they could, she thought. Maybe they finally could. She continued this way until she found herself at the Crawford Street Mansion.

Buffy walked into the mansion as she had several times before, but this time it was darker and emptier than it had ever been. There were a few packing boxes in the dining and living rooms, but they contained nothing of interest to her and she passed them, walking into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. Outside of a few blood bags, there wasn’t much inside. Buffy knew how the appliance felt.

**************************

**  
_A Mission Somewhere in California_  
**

Andrew and Spike waited inside a candlelit interior room of a mission; Andrew lying on the floor on his stomach, propping up on his elbows, and Spike sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with his knees bent up, muscular arms resting on his knees.

“How about Rock, Paper, Scissors,” Andrew suggested.

“What’s the matter with you? Don’t you understand what’s happening?” Spike snapped.

“Uh – _yeah_. We’re waiting here ’til it’s night again so you can go outside without _exploding_ ,” Andrew replied.

“And every minute we’re stuck here, the Slayer’s out there facing hell knows what,” Spike said.

“Come on,” Andrew remarked disbelievingly. “What’s the worst that could happen to her?”

Spike just glared at Andrew, considering all of the worst things that could happen to _him_.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery, Cellar_  
**

The Harbingers were using welding torches and pick-axes on the stone walls of a cave under the vineyard while the First Evil, in its guise as Buffy, and Caleb, watched them.

“I was hoping you’d bring me some better news,” the First Evil commented.

“And I wish I had some,” Caleb admitted.

“Is this going to do anything?” the First Evil asked, gesturing at the masonry work going on in front of it. “Or is all of this just to see the Bringers sweat?” It thought for a moment. “ _Do_ the Bringers sweat?”

“Actually, I think they pant, like dogs,” Caleb replied casually. “And I don’t know if this is going to do any good, but we have to try everything.”

“You do realize what will happen if the Slayer and her girls get it, don’t you?” the First Evil asked.

“They won’t,” Caleb assured it.

The First Evil looked at Caleb. “That’s right. They won’t.” It walked away. “Because you’re going to kill all of them and everyone they know.”

“Hallelujah,” Caleb supported the command.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_  
**

Angel walked down the stairs, scrubbing his hand tiredly over his face. He’d been watching over Cordelia for the last few hours. Gunn, Lorne, Fred and Wesley were scattered around the lobby, standing as still and mute as statues. Wondering what had garnered their attention, he scanned the room until he saw someone he never thought he’d see again standing on the landing on the opposite side of the lobby.

“Lilah,” Angel observed with an emotionless voice.

“Angel,” Lilah acknowledged. When he continued staring at her, as did the rest of them, she asked, “What’s the matter, ace?” She stepped down into the lobby and so did Angel, slowly circling each other. “You didn't you think you were the only one who ever got to come back from hell around here, did ya?” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, could I possibly get some ice water?”

“What are you doing here, Lilah?” Angel asked menacingly.

“She’s not here. It’s not her. It can’t be,” Wesley disclaimed, thinking she had to be a ghost.

“There’s a signed dollar in your wallet that says differently,” Lilah smirked.

Wesley looked at her as if she’d stung him. “It’s a lie,” he said, walking away.

“Lah,” she finished. “It’s a Li _lah_.” She sighed and crossed her arms. Addressing Angel, she said, “You’re the one with the preternatural senses. You tell them.”

“It’s true, Wes. It’s her,” Angel admitted.

“But how? She was dead,” Fred unnecessarily pointed out.

“She’s still dead,” Angel confirmed.

“Vampire?” Gunn suggested.

Lilah cringed at that notion. “Eww, please. Angelus drank from me, it’s true, but like with most men, it was a one-way street. I was dead already. Besides, my Wesley made sure I’d be spared,” she pulled down the scarf that covered her neck revealing a straight red scar across her neck. “Just in case. It’s okay, lover. I never felt a thing.”

Wesley scoffed. “I’m sure that’s true.”

“I don’t get this. If she ain’t alive and she ain’t a vampire, what in the hell _is_ she?” Gunn wanted to know.

Lilah covered the scar again with her scarf. “I’m just a messenger. That’s all. They’ll be sending me straight back to hell once I’m finished here.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” Gunn asked suspiciously.

“Wolfram & Hart,” Angel replied. When they all looked at him in askance, he said, “The contract she signed with them extends beyond her death.”

“Standard perpetuity clause, I’m afraid,” Lilah commented resignedly. “Always read the fine print.”

“What’s your game, Lilah?” Angel asked.

“No game,” Lilah shrugged. “In fact, game over.” She took a seat in the middle of a couch, draping herself over it like she owned it. “Guess what? You win, which is why I’m here. I have been authorized to make you kids an offer.”

Fred scoffed. “You can’t possibly think there’s anything we’d want from you.”

“I don’t think you’ll want it,” Lilah agreed. “But you’ll take it, because this is the offer of a lifetime.” She took a moment for the group to digest the news. “Just not, you know – mine.”

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Night_ **

Giles, Faith, and a few of the Potentials, trudged up the basement steps to address the small group currently assembled in the kitchen.

“Oh, hey. So?” Dawn prompted.

“Uh, the Bringer’s dumb,” Giles said, removing his glasses, cleaning them studiously then settling them back into place.

“You were expecting, what, a Rhodes Scholar?” Anya asked sarcastically.

“Dumb as in mute,” Giles clarified with infinite patience.

“We went to the trouble of kidnapping a Bringer to get info on Caleb only to find out someone ripped out its tongue,” Faith sighed.

“Oh, gross,” Amanda cringed at the thought.

“Hey, I’ve been reading this old Turkish spell book. There’s an old conjuration that the ancient Turks used to communicate with the dying,” Dawn announced.

“Oh, yeah,” Willow acknowledged. “I think I’ve read a translation of it.”

Dawn stared at her, wide-eyed, deflated. “There’s a translation of it?!” Dawn sighed. “I’m over it. Um, so the spell is used to communicate with people who can’t talk. Like, if a person was dying, this spell would let them say their goodbyes or, you know, gripe about how nobody came to visit them.” She looked at Giles. “Would this help us with Mr. No-Tongue?”

“Yeah, I think so. I just need to get together a few ingredients,” Willow told them.

“All right,” Faith said. “Well, cool. While Willow does that, the rest of us can –”

Faith was cut off by a door slamming and then Andrew yelling, “We’re back!”

A moment later, Spike walked into the room.

“Spike,” Giles acknowledged.

“Hey,” Spike nodded.

Andrew walked into the room, setting his helmet on a shelf. “Hi, everybody. I missed you guys a lot. Sorry it took so long to get back from our mission-mission, but we had to wait out the sun.” He turned to address the room. “Well, I think our mission went very well. We, uh, played some amusing games, and – oh! We got some new information. You know what? I really need to urinate.”

Everyone, including Spike, cringed at that announcement, watching Andrew quickly walk out of the room.

“He’s a breath of fresh air, ain’t he?” Spike asked rhetorically. “Thank God I don’t breathe. So, I think we got a lead. Where’s Buffy?” He wanted to impress her with what they'd learned.

Buffy’s friends looked guiltily at each other, then at Spike. Dawn was the one who finally stepped forward. “Um –” looking away from his deeply inquiring gaze, she admitted, “She’s not here right now.”

“When does she get back?” Spike asked, watching them all with deepening suspicion.

Willow gently tugged Dawn back and stepped toward Spike, wringing her hands nervously. “Um – w-while you were gone, we all got together and t-talked out some disagreements that we were having. Um – and eventually, after much discussion, Buffy decided that it would be best for all of us if she took a little time off, a little breather.”

Spike stared at Willow in disbelief, not to mention disdain. “Uh-huh. I see. Been practicing that speech long, have you?” Willow looked appropriately wounded and walked away. Spike glared in turn at Dawn, Willow, Xander, Faith, and Giles. “So, uh, Buffy took some time off right in the middle of the _apocalypse_ , and it was _her_ decision?”

“Well, we all decided,” Xander tried to defend their betrayal.

“Oh, yeah? You _all_ decided,” Spike chuckled sardonically. “You sad, sad, ungrateful traitors. Who do you think you are?”

“We’re her friends,” Willow contested. “We just want –”

“Oh, that’s ballsy of you,” Spike sneered. “You’re her _friends_ , and you betray her like this?”

“You don’t understand –” Giles began defensively.

Spike turned on him. “You know, I think I do.” He looked Giles up and down and continued disdainfully, “ _Rupert_. You used to be the big man, didn’t you? The teacher all full of wisdom. Now she’s surpassed you and you can’t handle it.” Spike swung his arm out to include all of them in his tirade. “She has saved your lives again and again.” The others rolled their eyes, but guiltily avoided eye contact with him. “She’s died for you. And this is how you thank –”

“Hey,” Faith interrupted, stepping closer to Spike. “Why don’t you take it down a notch or two? The time for speech-giving is over, bat boy.”

Spike crossed his arms, giving her a challenging look. “Oh, is that right?”

“Yeah,” Faith nodded grimly. “That’s right. So, save your lack of breath.”

Spike shrugged. “All right.” One second he was still as ice, the next, he uncoiled like a striking serpent, punching Faith in the face.

“Angel really has you pretty whipped to be looking out for her welfare.” Faith kicked Spike in the face. “I think it’s cute.” They traded powerful blows before she kicked Spike into the dining room where he slid over the dining room table and onto the floor.

“Enough!” Giles barked, trying to break up the fight.

Faith followed Spike into the dining room resuming punching him in the face repeatedly until he kicked her off of him, leaping to his feet.

“Finally, the truth comes to light. This is really what you came back here for, innit?” Spike asked as he exchanged punches with her. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know!” Faith yelled between punches.

Spike rolled Faith over his back, flinging her solidly into the dining room, hard. She rolled to her feet, and so did Spike. They glared at each other for a moment before Spike turned on his heel, stalking out of the front door.

**************************

**  
_Outside the Summers’ Residence_  
**

Spike walked out of the front door and down the walk toward the street. He paused, closing his eyes, and deeply inhaling the night air. Finally, he caught the scent he was searching for and strode quickly in that direction.

**************************

**  
_Crawford Street Mansion_  
**

Buffy was sleeping on the bed in the master bedroom when Spike reached the room in the Crawford Street Mansion. He leaned in the doorway, watching her for a moment before speaking.

“Here you are. Never thought it would take the end of the world to get you back in my bed again, luv.” She roused, hearing him, but didn't move. He walked into the room and leaned on the dresser next to the bed. “I heard. I was over there. That bitch.” Spike sighed. “She was fine when she was helping in L.A. She comes here and it’s all smiles and reformation when you’re on your feet. But, the moment you’re down, she’s all about the kicking, innit that right? Makes me want to—”

Buffy stared blankly at the wall. “It wasn’t just Faith. It was all of them.” She turned and looked up at Spike. “And it’s not like they were wrong. Please leave.”

“No, because one: you’re in my house, in my bed. And two: I think I have something that’ll change your tune. I was looking for you because I got something to tell _you_. You were right. Caleb _is_ trying to protect something from you. And I think you were spot on all the way. I think it’s at the vineyard. So?” When she continued to stare at him, he stressed, “You were _right_.” He still failed to get a reaction. “Buffy?”

After a long moment she said softly, “I don’t feel very right.”

“You’re not fooling me,” Spike declared.

“What do you even mean?” Buffy asked tiredly.

“You’re not a quitter,” Spike stated.

“Watch me,” Buffy challenged.

“You were their leader, and you still are. This isn’t something you gave up, it’s something they took,” Spike pointed out.

Buffy frowned up at him. “And the difference is?”

“We can take it _back_ ,” Spike concluded.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel_  
**

Lilah sat on the couch, plucking fuzzies off of her shirt, while the group stared at her. They all shifted uncomfortably as they pondered Lilah’s latest deal, looking from her to each other.

“Do you want to run that by us one more time?” Gunn asked, finally breaking the silence.

“What was unclear?” Lilah inquired, a perfectly manicured brow arching like a question mark.

“I think the part where you offered us Wolfram & Hart,” Fred clarified.

“Just the L.A. branch,” Lilah recalled.

“Just the L.A. branch,” Lorne chuckled mirthlessly. He rose then continued, irritation plain in his voice, “Hi, from another dimension, what the hell does that mean?”

“It means we give. You win. We’re moving out. The Senior Partners are ceding this territory to you, and to prove it, they want to give you controlling interest in our L.A. Office. You get the building, assets, personnel, letterhead, paper clips, all of it. It’s yours to do with as you see fit,” Lilah extrapolated.

“But there _is_ no Los Angeles office of Wolfram  & Hart. The Beast destroyed it,” Fred reminded her.

“Oh, it’s back, re-staffed and zombie-free,” Lilah smiled tautly. “We’re bigger, better, and shinier than ever, and we want to give it to you.”

“You want to give us your evil law firm?” Gunn raised a brow. “We ain’t lawyers.”

“Or evil,” Fred added, then looked at her colleagues, amending, “Currently.”

Lilah got to her feet. “What we’re offering you is a turnkey, state-of-the-art, multi-tasking operation. What you do with it, well,” she crossed her arms. “That’s up to you.”

“Why?” Angel finally spoke up.

“Well, I thought that was obvious. You earned it. Think of it as a reward.” Lilah shrugged as if she couldn't care less about the reason.

“A reward for what?” Gunn asked skeptically.

“Ending world peace?” Lilah suggested.

“That’s not what happened,” Fred corrected her.

“No?” Lilah inquired with a smug tone.

“The thing that was possessing Cordelia was conjuring a portal to a hell dimension,” Angel recounted.

“The demon was creating a better world for us all. Wolfram & Hart have been trying to accomplish an inter-world version of the U.N. for eons, but you fixed that,” Lilah actually beamed at them.

“No, we didn’t. I-I mean, we did, we – we fixed it, but not in the way that you’re trying to make it sound,” Fred haltingly argued.

“Jeez, it’s not like it was a criticism,” Lilah shrugged. “Anyway, I’m dead and running late.” She walked toward the door. “Think about our proposal. If anyone’s interested and wants the grand tour, there’ll be a limo waiting outside just before dawn.” She stopped and looked back at them, “And hey – good job!” She gave them the thumbs-up before walking out of the door.

“We ended a demonic summoning, not the inter-world formation of the U.N.—” Fred argued aloud, looking at the others. “Right?”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Master Bedroom_  
**

Faith and Giles were leaning over the writing desk in what used to be Joyce's bedroom, looking at a map of Sunnydale.

“The sewer tunnel on the north side is closest,” Faith pointed out. “So, I guess we’ll start there.”

“Sounds fine,” Giles agreed. “What time shall I tell everyone?”

“How about seven o’clock?” Faith asked uncertainly. After a beat she added with more confidence, “Seven sharp. So, tomorrow we fight.” She looked to the Watcher for reassurance.

“Tomorrow,” Giles nodded. “Good night, Faith.” He started to walk away, then turned toward her. “Faith?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing just fine,” Giles encouraged before leaving the room.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion_  
**

Buffy sat on the edge of the large bed while Spike stood in front of her, leaning against the dresser.

“No?” Spike repeated her refusal to his earlier suggestion.

“No,” Buffy stated firmly.

“You mean ‘no’ as in ‘eventually’?” Spike coerced.

“You really have problems with that word, don’t you?” Buffy observed.

“But you can get them back,” Spike asserted.

“ _Can_ , maybe. _Should_?” Buffy sighed, emotionally drained and feeling far older than her youthful years. She rested her head in her hands. “I’m just so tired.”

“They need you,” Spike persisted.

“Well, I d—” Buffy started to say.

“It’s bloody chaos over there without you,” Spike interrupted.

“It is?” Buffy asked, her curiosity tickled.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s, uh—There’s junk—You know? Food cartons, sleeping bags not rolled up, everyone’s very scared and, uh, unkempt,” Spike listed what he'd observed, trying to come up with excuses.

Buffy smirked. “Sounds dire.”

Spike shrugged. “I didn’t see a lot.” He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “I came, hit Faith a bunch of times, and left.”

“Really? I mean, not that I’m glad, but –” Buffy was surprised that Spike had defended her against Faith. They always seemed like best buds since Spike showed up with Willow and Faith.

“Oh, you say the word, and she’s a footnote in history,” Spike assured her. Faith’s so-called rehabilitation that Angel saw in L.A. seemed to be a smokescreen. Considering her actions in Sunnydale thus far, he thought she was back to her old self. He glanced at Buffy, “I’ll make it look like a painful accident.”

“That’s my problem,” Buffy accepted sadly. “I say the word, some girl dies – every time.”

“There’s always casualties in war,” Spike rationalized.

“Casualties,” Buffy echoed. “It just sounds so—casual. These are girls that _I_ got killed. I cut myself off from them--all of them. I knew I was going to lose some of them and I didn’t –” She shook her head, rising from the bed. “You know what? I’m still making excuses.” She turned around to face him. “I’ve always cut myself off. I’ve always –” she sighed. “Being the Slayer made me different. But it’s my fault I stayed that way. People are always trying to connect to me, and I just slip away.” She gestured towards him. “You and I were never close. You just wanted me because Angel had me and I was—unattainable.”

Spike shot to his feet, insulted, and angrily asked, “You think that’s all that was?”

“Please, let’s not go over the past,” Buffy said wearily, sitting on the bed again.

“Oh, no, no.” Spike cut his hand through the air. “Let’s hold on here. I’ve hummed along to your pitty-ditty, and I think _I_ should have the mic for a bit.”

“Fine,” Buffy waved her hand towards him. “The stage is yours. Cheer me up.”

“You’re insufferable,” Spike spat it out like an accusation.

“Thank you,” Buffy replied sarcastically. “That really helped.”

“I’m not trying to cheer you up,” Spike said.

“What are you trying to say?” Buffy asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll know when I’m done saying it. Something pissed me off, and I just – _Unattainable_. That’s it.”

“Fine,” Buffy threw up her hands. “I’m attainable. I’m an attain-a-thon. May I please just go to sleep?”

“You listen to me,” Spike said as he knelt in front of her. “I’ve been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine, and done things I prefer you didn’t. I don’t exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn’t exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls.” He raised her chin so that she went from staring at her lap to meeting his eyes. “A hundred-plus years and there’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure of: _you_.” Buffy looked away. When he reached for her she drew back, as if his touch made her uncomfortable, so he put down his hand. “Hey, look at me.” She glanced at him. “I’m not asking you for anything. Sure, Angel sent me here to look after you, make sure you had backup when needed. But, I’ve watched you over the years. You never backed down from anything. I’d admire what you are, what you do, how you _try_. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and _worst_ of you. And I understand, with perfect clarity, exactly what you are. You’re stronger than them. If you weren’t, the Gift would have passed to Faith a long time ago." He paused, gazing earnestly at her with his cerulean eyes. "You’re a hell of a woman. You’re the _one_ , Buffy.”

Buffy gave him an emotional, pensive smile and said quietly, “I don’t want to be the one.”

“I don’t want to be this good looking and athletic. We all have crosses to bear,” Spike smirked causing Buffy to chuckle, and he relished the sound, standing. “You get some rest now. I’ll check in before first light. You can decide how you want—” He walked towards the door.

Buffy watched him as he walked toward the door, surprised by what she was beginning to realize; even after all she’d done to him, he complimented her. Here she was, in his bed, and he was leaving. It didn’t seem right to make him sleep in one of the many spare bedrooms, or the couch. “Spike?” He stopped and turned to face her. “Could you—stay here?”

“Sure. I guess I could sleep on the floor—” He thought about it. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

Buffy smiled at the memory of Angel sleeping on the floor beside her bed, protecting her, just before she found out he was a vampire. “No, I mean—here.” She patted the bed beside her. “Will you just—hold me?”

Spike sat on the bed beside Buffy, leaning back against the headboard, the pillows cushioning his back. He put his arm around her as she curled up to him, cuddling against his chest.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Manager’s Office_  
**

Wesley sat behind the battered desk in the manager's office of the Hyperion, hunched over the top of it, inspecting a map. Gunn walked into the room, sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

“Angel’s exorcism of Cordelia took place here, in this warehouse district,” Wesley circled a place on the map. “If we can figure out who, or what, she was trying to conjure before Angel had her exorcized—”

“We could have asked the demon directly, if Angel had brought her back here, hogtied,” Gunn pointed out tiredly. “As far as we can tell, it wanted to bring on another apocalypse.”

Wesley put down his pen and looked at Gunn. “If you have another idea, I’m ready to hear it.”

“I can’t help thinking it might cut down on the work load some if we got a little help, like a few extra employees, or a ‘ _turn-key, state-of-the-art, multi-tasking operation_ ’,” Gunn repeated Lilah’s offer.

Wesley leaned back in his chair. “You can’t possibly think that’s an option.”

Gunn leaned back in his chair. “Well, now I _know_ it’s an option, ’cause I was standing there when the dead lady offered it to us. Come on, Wes, how long are you going to be satisfied, sitting there sticking pins in maps and blowing dust off your books?” Gunn let what he said sink in for a moment before he felt guilty for saying it. “Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

Wesley looked away at the stack of aforementioned books littering the desk. “No, no, no. They _are_ rather dusty.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gunn apologized. “It couldn’t have been easy for you seeing Lilah again like that.”

“Oh, yes,” Wesley remarked sardonically. “That _was_ awkward, wasn’t it? When you decapitate a loved one you don’t expect them to come visiting.” He picked up a pen, leaning over his map again.

“Loved one?” Gunn raised an eyebrow.

“Figure of speech,” Wesley said dismissively, not looking at Gunn, but they both looked up when they heard the front door open and shut.

**************************

**  
_Hyperion Hotel, Lobby_  
**

Angel was changing his shirt behind the reception desk and Fred was sitting on a couch with a book when Lorne walked in. Wesley and Gunn emerged from the manager's office, entering the lobby.

“You’re back,” Angel announced Lorne's arrival. “Anything?”

“Oh, plenty,” Lorne replied with a shrug. “Just not anything on Cordelia or what she was trying to bring forth. I’m not saying we ended world peace or anything, but, uh, it’s a mess out there, and considering the banner year we’ve had, that’s up against some pretty stiff competition.”

Angel glanced over at Wesley standing in the office doorway. “What have you got?”

“Not much more than you left me with, I’m afraid. Truth is, we’ll never know what she was doing until she wakes up – which seems unlikely.”

Angel laid his palms flat on the reception desk, leaning heavily on it and hanging his head in exasperation.

“Okay, well, don’t you think maybe we should consider –?”

Angel looked up, snapping, “Consider what, Gunn? _What_ should we consider?”

Gunn actually took a step back from the malice in Angel’s tone. “Locating new books with which to research. Maybe contacting your friend who did the exorcism and see if he knows of a way to find out what she was up to before he exorcized the demon.”

Angel glared at Gunn. “If you want to get into that limo when it gets here, fine. That’s up to you.” Angel turned around, heading for the stairs and his room room. “It’s not a decision I can make for you,” he looked back at the others. “For any of you. But know this; before the ride’s even over, before you even cross through their doors, you’ll be corrupted.” He stalked up the staircase like a shadow of doom, disappearing around an upper hallway corner.

Fred watched Angel vanish then turned her attention to her friends. “I can’t believe he thought you meant –”

“I’m going to bed,” Gunn cut her off. He turned away, going up the opposite flight of stairs than the ones used by Angel.

“Yes, I should be heading home myself. It’s late.” Wesley glanced around from Fred to Lorne, then at Gunn's retreating back. “Well—night all.” He grabbed a book before walking out of the hotel.

“Night,” Lorne replied as Wesley passed him, then he made his way upstairs to his room.

Fred watched Wesley leave the hotel. “Good night.”


	20. Chapter 66-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  __

Chapter 66-B: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 16)

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Master Bedroom_ **

Just as Faith walked into the master bedroom she commandeered when she usurped Buffy and rallied to kick her out of her house, the First Evil appeared to her in the form of the late Mayor Wilkins.

“You know, Faith, deep down, you always wanted Buffy to accept you, to love you even. Why do you think that is?”

Faith spun around to see the one person who had been more of a father to her than had her real father. “Are you a shrink now?”

The First Evil, in the form of the Mayor, began pacing. “You keep looking for love and acceptance from these people, these friends of yours, but you’re never going to find it. The truth is, nobody will ever love you. Not the way _I_ love you.”

“Get out,” Faith ordered.

“They’ll forever see you as a killer,” The First Evil remarked.

“I said get _out_!” Faith demanded with greater conviction.

“I’ll always be with you, firecracker, in everything you do.” With those parting words, the First Evil disappeared in a flash of light.”

Robin entered the room immediately upon the First Evil's departure and he touched Faith's shoulder. “Faith?”

Startled, Faith spun around to attack this new intruder, but she blinked when she saw who it was. “You shouldn’t sneak up like that! I almost took your head off!”

“Sorry,” Robin apologized.

“Who – what did you see?” Faith asked with a defensive tone.

“Just – you’re looking spooked. What happened? Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Oh, what?” You want to rap about my problems now?” Faith asked caustically. “Are you looking to be the guy who puts the ‘pal’ in princi _pal_ for me?”

Robin held his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, you know what? I came up here to talk to you about weapons.”

Faith shook her head, dismayed by her own behavior. “Sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.” She turned away from him, beginning to pace again. “I’m just –”

Robin began backing out of the room. “Listen, I’m going to leave you alone. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It was the First,” Faith blurted out just as he was about to leave.

Robin stopped backing away and instead reentered the room, shutting the door behind him. “Well, you’re really in the game now, Faith. The First doesn’t show itself unless it thinks you matter.”

“Lucky me. I’m a player.” Faith held out her hand in front of her. “Man, look at that. My hand’s shaking. Demons, vampires, women in the penitentiary system – none of that freaks me out.”

“That’s exactly what the First does – finds your Achilles’ heel,” Robin sought to alleviate her self recrimination.

Faith shook her head, having zero idea what he was referencing. “Nah, it just talked to me. What? It does a heal thing too?”

Robin’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “Um, it’s a phrase. Your weak spot.”

“Oh, a school thing.” She looked away, disliking the feeling of embarrassment. “I was kind of absent that decade.” She sat on the edge of the bed.

Robin joined her. “So, who was it?”

“He was like an old boss of mine,” Faith told him.

“Just a boss – and he’s got you shaking like this? He wouldn’t give you a raise, huh?” Robin quipped.

Faith laughed wanly. “Yeah, right. Well, it sounds retarded, but he was like a dad to me.”

“Oh,” Robin acknowledged, looking away. “It was my mother when it came to me. And I mean it was _her_ , right down to the perfume.”

Faith glanced at him. “Sorry.”

Robin nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m just so pissed off at myself. I knew it was a trick,” Faith declared.

“Yeah, so did I, but I still wanted my mother to hold me like a little baby –” He broke off when he realized what he was admitting to, blinking and quickly trying to backtrack, “In a manly way, of course.”

“Of course,” Faith acknowledged soberly.

“Listen, nobody wants to be alone, Faith. We all want someone who cares, to be touched that way.” He gazed at her. “I mean, the First deals in figments, but wanting is real.”

“Hitting things and a whole lot of Jack D dulls it some,” Faith said this as a revelation.

“Among other things,” Robin added, and they both smiled.

Faith rose from the bed. “When it came to you, did the First tell the truth?”

“Yeah,” Robin replied.

“It said to watch out for Buffy, that Buffy’s dangerous,” Faith told him.

“Well, what do you think?” Robin asked.

Faith started pacing again. “Could be. I mean, we’ve given her pretty good reason to be pissed off. You know the messed up thing? The First is telling me to worry about her, and I just wish she was here. In a couple of hours I’m going to lead these girls into some serious crap, and she’s the only one –”

“She’s _not_ the only one,” Robin interrupted, exasperated. “You’re a Slayer too, Faith, and I think you’re a good leader.”

“I’m an ex-con who didn’t finish high school,” Faith corrected him.

“Yeah, well I’m the principal of a school where nobody finished, and I am completely out of my league in this.”

“Well, I hear otherwise,” Faith countered.

Robin scoffed at the idea and stood. “So, um, tomorrow then?”

“Forget about tomorrow. This is tonight.” She pulled his hand toward her face. “It’s been a while.” She watched him intently, trying to gauge his reaction. “Am I out of line?”

“No. You’re the leader,” Robin encouraged.

They kissed. Robin lifted her into his arms and she directed him back onto the bed. Falling upon the mattress, Robin pulled impatiently on her shirt as kissed with deepening passion.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Vineyards, Winery_   
**

“I envy them,” admitted the First Evil, who was currently mimicking Buffy's form. “Isn’t that the strangest thing?”

Caleb stood behind her, watching the events unfold within the spying portal she'd created in order to watch the Slayer’s friends, who were presently fornicating like wild animals.

“It does throw me a tad,” Caleb admitted, cringing at the sight. “I mean, they’re just – why, they’re barely more than animals. Feeding off each other’s flesh – it’s nauseating. But you – you’re everywhere.” He took a step closer to the apparition. “You’re in the hearts of little children. You’re in the souls of the rich. You’re the First that makes people kill and hate. The fire that will cure the world of weakness. They’re just sinners. You _are_ sin.”

The First Evil turned, smiling softly. “I do enjoy your sermons.”

“And you’re in me. Give me strength no man can have,” Caleb said appreciatively.

“And the only man strong enough to be my vessel, and I know you feel me,” The First Evil looked back at the shimmering portal displaying the couple in the Slayer’s house who were making out with each other. “But I know why they grab at each other – to feel. I want to feel. I want to wrap my hands around some innocent neck and feel it crack.”

“Amen,” Caleb enthusiastically enjoined.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Pre-Dawn_   
**

Fred sneaked out of her room and paused, looking around. The halls were empty and she tiptoed down the front stairs, into the empty lobby, and out of the front door. She walked through the garden, adjusting her shoe on the way and drawing up short when she spotted a limousine.

“I don’t know how long it’s been here. Since before I arrived,” Wesley quietly remarked from near her. She turned, startled, finding him leaning against the outside wall of the entrance to the garden.

“I thought I’d be the only one,” Fred guiltily admitted.

“I thought for sure I wouldn’t be, although I wasn’t expecting it to be you,” Wesley observed.

“I just figured – well, if they _are_ up to something –” Fred started to say.

“We should know what it is,” Gunn interrupted, approaching them from out of the surrounding shadows. “I get that.”

“Well, we three,” Wesley pointed out.

“Looks like,” Gunn acknowledged.

“What are the odds that humans would be the most corruptible?” Wesley pondered.

Fred walked toward the long, dark car and they followed. “Maybe we should just go back inside. What if Angel’s right?”

“Yeah, but what if he’s not?” Gunn countered. “All we’re going to do is take the tour.”

“Hmm. We go into this with our eyes open and our wits about us. There shouldn’t be any –” Wesley began.

“Surprises?” Angel inquired from the deeper shadows near the limo. “What the hell?” He crossed to the car, opening the door for the others – revealing Lorne already ensconced inside, a drink in his hand.

Lorne was yelling at the driver over the dance music, “So it’s an evil limo. I get that, but does that mean we don’t restock the cherries?” He laughed then looked around when he felt a draft, noticing the others noticing him. “Hi!”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Early Morning_   
**

Andrew stood in the middle of the Summers' living room, surrounded by Potentials, the core Scooby Gang, and Faith. “So, it turned out that all these stone tablets basically said the same thing. The First and Caleb are protecting something, and – and we don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s something powerful, and they don’t want the Slayers to get it. I’m thinking it could be a weapon, and if we’re looking for an arsenal –”

“You’re not coming,” Faith quickly cut him off.

Andrew huffed in irritation. “ _If one is looking for an arsenal_ , what better place to find a –”

“Weapon,” Faith finished with a nod. “Okay, got it. Good. Good thinking, Andrew.”

“It’s a pleasure, Faith,” Andrew bowed then gestured towards her. “Back to you.”

**************************

Faith walked into the living room, addressing Willow, Dawn, Xander, and Giles. “Okay, I need you four to suss out the situation on B. I don’t want you talking to her, or getting in her way, or, for that matter, letting her know you’re there. Just do a little recon.

Robin perked up. “Where do you want me, Faith?”

“By your phone. I’ll call you when I need you,” Faith retorted, blowing him off.

“What are we looking for?” Dawn asked. “I mean: is there some reason we should spy on Buffy?”

“We’re just making sure she’s okay. Those of you who are coming with me to the arsenal, you know who you are.” Faith looked around at the assembled group. “Everybody ready? Let’s do this thing.” She walked toward the door without giving Robin a second glance, some of the armed Potentials following after her.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion, Morning_   
**

Spike awoke alone, in the Crawford Street mansion, in bed. He slowly sat up, discovering a note on the pillow beside him. Picking up the folded piece of paper, he looked around, sniffing the air and discovering Buffy's scent was hours old. He turned his attention to the note and read that she planned to return to the vineyard, and that she was going after Caleb. He growled in frustration. Unable to follow her because it was daylight outside, so he was forced to wait until sunset.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart, Lobby, Morning_   
**

The elevator bell gave an arrival ding, the doors sliding open. Angel, Fred, Lorne, Wesley and Gunn stepped out of the elevator into the expansive lobby of Wolfram & Hart. They looked around to see a zombie-free, bustling office. There was a huge ‘WOLFRAM & HART’ sign on the backsplash of the wall behind the reception desk.

“Mr. Angel, good morning,” a female lawyer greeted them as she passed.

“Good morning, Mr. Angel,” a male lawyer repeated as he passed in the opposite direction as the woman.

“Good morning, Mr. Angel,” another female lawyer welcomed as she walked by them.

“Good morning, Mr. Angel,” a male lawyer repeated as he passed.

“Good morning, Mr. Angel,” a female lawyer enjoined as she hurried along on her way to whatever work awaited her.

“There’s no way this is going to go well,” Angel informed his friends as he surveyed the immense lobby.

There was another parade of lawyers them, each greeting and wishing Angel "good morning."

Out of the throng of well-wishers, a team of five people, headed by Lilah, power-walked toward Angel’s group.

“Well, you’ve all made it,” Lilah observed airily. “What a shock. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, so best we get started. Let me introduce you to your guides.”

“Guides?” Angel’s eyebrow shot up. “Separate guides?”

“Of course. There are _five_ of you, all with specific interests, unique areas of expertise. Seemed the most efficient way of doing things,” Lilah explained. “Prioritize and personalize.”

Angel smirked. “Divide and conquer, you mean.”

“Oh, you’re so cynical. See?” Lilah smiled mirthlessly. “This is going to work out great!”

“We don’t split up,” Angel stated flatly. “We came here together, we’re gonna take the tour together. Right, guys?”

Gunn was eying a pretty brunette Lilah brought with her. “Do I get her?”

Lilah sighed at Angel’s skepticism. “Look, if we wanted to harm you, we’d have blown up the limo, right?” Behind her, a man wearing a suit wheeled in a cart of guns. “If you prefer to be armed during your stay here, we’d have no objections. Just because we’ve tried to kill or corrupt each and every one of you at one time or another doesn’t mean we can’t be trusted.”

“She’s right,” Wesley spoke up. “We’ve made deals with them before. They _are_ honorable – in their own way. I doubt we’ll be in any danger.”

“She was right about the limo,” Lorne added.

Gunn’s gaze was still transfixed on the pretty brunette. “Do I get her?”

Fred walked over to the cart, picking up a large automatic rifle, chambering a round. “I think we’ll be okay.”

“Lorne, let me introduce you to Preston. He will show you around our entertainment division,” Lilah said, gesturing toward a Fred Savage-type in a suit who carried a binder.

Preston held out his hand. “Hi, big fan. _Huge_. Love your work.” Lorne shook his hand. “I had this prepared. Confidential list. Peepers only. Thought you might want to take a gander at our roster.” He opened the binder. “Just a rundown of some of the talent we represent here.”

Lorne took a step back. “Uh, no, no, no, no. I don’t think you have to tell me what you represent here, young man. I know. Evil. Pure evil in the –” Preston flipped through the pages of the book, catching Lorne’s attention. “Huh. Which is apparently everyone I’ve always wanted to meet.”

“Follow me,” Preston led the way as he and Lorne left the lobby.

Lilah smiled, watching them take their leave, then turned her attention to Wesley. “Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Rutherford Sirk,” she introduced the two men to each other. Wesley and Sirk shook hands. “I think you’ll find you two have a lot in common.”

The tall, slender, middle-aged, conservatively-dressed young man, spoke up with a meticulous English accent, “It’s a pleasure. Shall we?”

Wesley gazed at Lilah for a moment, as if seeking some sort of answer and, not finding it in her shuttered eyes, followed Sirk out of the lobby.

“Charles Gunn, Lacey Shepard,” Lilah presented the young woman whom Gunn had been staring at since he stepped into the lobby. “I think you’ll find you two have nothing in common.”

Gunn grinned like a fool when Lacey took his hand. “This way, Chuck,” Lacey smiled invitingly, leading him from the lobby like a willing lamb to slaughter.

“You’re not going to try and corrupt me, are you?” Gunn asked hopefully.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lacey replied teasingly.

“We’ll have to work on that,” Gunn said, leaving Fred and Angel to whatever fates awaited them in the lobby.

“Knox, Fred Burkle,” Lilah introduced the waifish brunette to a youthful man wearing a white lab coat.

Fred smiled cordially, trying to offer her hand to him, but the large gun she held made it awkward. “Hi,” she giggled apologetically.

“Knox is the star of our science division,” Lilah divulged.

“Oh!” Fred perked up at the mention of a science department.

“Well, this, um, should be,” Knox examined the gun Fred held, “fun.”

“Yeah,” Fred agreed, protectively holding the gun before her as she followed Knox out of the lobby.

“Well,” Angel chuckled mirthlessly as he discovered, not to his surprise, that he was left alone with Lilah. “What do you know?”

“Yep, just you and me, boss. Come on, Charlie,” she invited, looped her arm in his. “Let me show you around the chocolate factory.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Vineyards, Wine Cellar_   
**

Caleb and the First Evil, in the guise of Buffy, strolled beside each other as if walking in a Biblical garden. The First Evil had her arms crossed.

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Caleb assured the entity. “Prophecies say one thing. Brute strength says another. We’ll get it out.”

They studied the work in progress as the Harbingers continued to use welding torches and other tools on the rocks under the cellar.

“I heard you, Caleb,” the First Evil remarked, annoyed.

“We’re almost there,” he tried to placate the entity.

“Yes, that’s true. Now, rouse the Bringers. Get them back to work –” the First Evil began to say when their conversation was interrupted by a Harbinger tumbling down the stairs. Caleb and The First Evil turned to discover Buffy standing at the top of the stairs, hands on her slim hips.

"Hey," she greeted. "I heard you got something of mine.” She trotted quickly down the stairs to be on the same level as Caleb.

“Well, if it isn’t the prodigal Slayer,” Caleb announced sardonically.

Buffy cast her eyes about the gloomy space where the Harbingers still toiled. “Where’s it at? You know I’m going to find it sooner or later.”

“No, you’re not. I lay one hand on you, and you’re just a dead little girl,” Caleb boasted confidently.

Buffy shrugged without concern. “Lay a hand on me--if you can.”

Caleb accepted the invitation, swinging at her, but Buffy ducked quickly, without losing her balance. He swung at her again, but this time Buffy jumped into the air, completed a forward somersault over his head, landing on her feet, and the instant she landed, she took off at a full run, Caleb in hot pursuit. She sprinted over the wine barrels, kicking the last one into Caleb’s path causing it to burst open, contents splashing out in a miniature flood, sweeping his feet out from under him. The blonde Slayer paused on the far side of the room, watching him flounder.

The First Evil, still presenting itself as Buffy's mirror image, sat on a wine barrel, looking disdainfully upon Caleb, who was now lying on the floor, covered in wine. “Caleb, this is getting embarrassing.”

“Do you have to look like that?” Caleb complained under his breath.

“Will you concentrate?” The First Evil demanded, annoyance in its borrowed voice.

“’Cause it’s just a little confusing,” Caleb groused through gritted teeth.

“Fine! Go. Kill,” The First Evil disappeared in a flash of white light.

Caleb finally regained his footing and faced the real Buffy.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_   
**

Lilah and Angel walked down a hallway together toward a large office and Angel couldn't help wondering if the immensity of everything was for the sake of ego – or were the men around here compensating for something else?

“Money, clothes, women,” Lilah was saying, trying to sell him on the perks of being at Wolfram & Hart. “Did I mention we have a juice bar?”

“This is what you came back from the dead for?” Angel inquired. “To play **_Let’s Make an Evil Deal_**?”

“Show him what’s behind door number one, Bob,” Lilah used an announcer's tone as she opened the double doors to a cavernous office. Angel followed her inside with his usual expression of failure to be swept up by the moment. “I know it’s not much, but the Taj Mahal was a bit of a commute.”

“Hmm, what, am I supposed to swoon? It’s an office,” Angel remarked, unimpressed.

Lilah gave a spokesmodel gesture toward a set of closed doors. “With your own private elevator. Care to take it for a spin?”

“What’s it going to do, huh? Drop me in a vat of holy water?” Angel queried with a quirked eyebrow.

Lilah smirked. “I was pushing for that, but they went with the motor pool. Figured you’d like to stay mobile, what with all that rushing out to save the day you’re so fond of.”

Angel returned the smirk. “Thanks, but I already have a car.”

Lilah shrugged. “Now, you have twelve.”

“What am I going to do with twelve cars?” Angel asked dubiously.

“Anything you want. That’s the point, or haven’t you been listening?” Lilah asked with obvious impatience.

“I have, and, uh, I’m done now,” Angel told her with finality, turning to leave.

“Wait, I forgot to show you the best part,” Lilah stopped him, pressing a button under the desk. “You’re going to love this.” The tall shades slid open, allowing dazzling sunlight to flood the room through a wall of glass, leaving no shadow in any corner.

Angel instinctively recoiled from the wash of destructive brilliance, covering his face, but in the next instant observed, “I’m not bursting into flames.”

“Nope,” Lilah acknowledged, tapping the glass. “Necro-tempered glass. The whole building’s fitted with it. Helps keep those uplifting, wholesome rays from char broilin’ the boss, _and_ thirty-percent more energy efficient.” Angel didn't really hear her as he allowed himself the luxury of basking in the sunlight. “Feels even better when you’re naked,” Lilah suggested, twirling a finger. “I could turn around.”

Angel remembered where he was and glared at her. “Close it.”

“Promise I won’t peek,” Lilah smiled sweetly. “Well, maybe just a skosh.”

“Close it, Lilah,” Angel ordered tersely.

Lilah sighed, hitting the button that closed the shades. “Goodbye, Mr. Sunshine. Hello, gloomy avenger.”

“Make that goodbye. I’m not taking the job,” Angel reiterated.

“It’s not a job. It’s an opportunity,” Lilah chirped perkily.

“Ooh, an opportunity to be part of the problem,” Angel corrected her.

“If that’s what you choose,” Lilah shrugged. “Think of what you can do with the resources of Wolfram & Hart at your fingertips, the difference that would make. Nothing in this world is the way it ought to be. It’s harsh, and it’s cruel, but that’s why there’s you, Angel. You live as if the world were as it should be. With all this,” Lilah gestured to take in their surroundings, “You can make it that way. People don’t need an unyielding champion. They need a man who knows the value of compromise and how to beat the system from inside the belly of the beast.”

“Beast’s belly?” Angel raised an eyebrow at her phrasing. “Doesn’t that usually mean you’ve been eaten?”

Lilah smiled. “Maybe. While you’ve been namby-pambying around for the past ninety seconds, six innocent people have died. Oh, but don’t worry. There’s six thousand more just around the corner – or up the coast.” She handed Angel a file.

Angel opened the file, glancing at it. “Sunnydale.” He took an amulet from the file, examining it.

“That nifty, little bauble comes with the file,” Lilah explained. “Apparently, it’s crucial for some kind of final battle. Guess they’re in short supply up Sunnydale way. A bit gauche for my taste, but, hey, I’m not a Slayer.”

Angel returned the amulet to the file, tossing it onto the table. “Buffy can handle herself and she has Spike up there.”

“But isn’t it more fun when _you_ handle her? And what, you’re not going to give your soul mate any help at all?”

“Keep the intel. Not interested,” Angel told her, walking toward the door, ignoring the inference to Spike.

“Not in this case. So how about open homicide? Missing persons? Medical emergencies?” Angel stopped walking. “Mmm, I knew there had to be a reason you took the tour. I’m dead, not stupid.”

Angel looked back at her. “What do you know?”

“About Cordelia’s coma? Not much. But with one phone call you could get her the best medical care money can buy.”

Angel shook his head. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, Lilah. I really am. Me and my friends will be leaving now.”

“Did I mention you have a,” Lilah ignored his remark as she picked up a remote, pressed a button, and revealed a large television.

“Cool! Is that high-def?” Angel asked.

“One time offer only, Angel. Walk out that door, the deal’s off. Stay, it’s all yours,” Lilah repeated the offer.

Angel glared at her. “People like you, this place, that’s what’s wrong with the world, Lilah. I will never be a part of this.” Angel's eyes returned to the file on the desk, and he thought about Cordelia’s situation. “Not the way you’re hoping.” He moved aggressively into Lilah’s personal space. “Now, let me tell you what the deal’s going to be.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Tunnel_   
**

Faith led a group of Potentials through a dark, stone tunnel, lit only by the handheld flashlights they carried. Faith pointed her light at a stockpile of traditional weapons, as well as gas canisters.

“Everybody,” Faith called back to the others. “I think we just found it.”

“Look at all this,” Kennedy observed, taking in the weapons and ammunition.

Vi grabbed a sword from the pile, looking around at her fellow Potentials. “I don’t get it. Why’d they abandon all this stuff?”

Suddenly, a Bringer jumped down from the rafters.

“Maybe ’cause they didn’t,” Faith replied grimly.

Faith and the Potentials charged into battle with the Bringers. There wasn’t much light, and the battle was confusing, everyone swinging axes, swords and knives in every direction, barely able to be cautious of those who fought on the same side.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery_   
**

Caleb swung a punch at Buffy, but she jumped into the air, flipped, and landed on her feet, avoiding his attack. He lunged at her, but Buffy propelled herself up a wall and across the rafter – a la **_Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon_** – as Caleb ran under her, unable to stop the momentum of his charge. Buffy jumped to the ground and Caleb swung at her again, but she ducked, and he failed to connect. With her back to the wall, Buffy stared evenly at Caleb as he walked menacingly toward her.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart_   
**

Lorne sang as he danced with himself in the lobby.

“ _Could be – who knows?_ ” Lorne sang. “ _There’s something due any day I will know right away soon as it shows._ ” Fred walked into the lobby. “ _It may come cannonballin’ down from the sky gleaming inside – Welcome back, Fred_ ,” Lorne hugged her, drawing her into a dance. “Hi, Hey. Oh, well, let me tell you, when this cruise ship sets sail, I will be on the Lido deck.” Lorne chuckled. “You know, I mean, it’s unbelievable. Secrets of the universe, like Siegfried/evil; Roy/ not so much. Oh, and balance? Very, very important.” He spun Fred out and she collided with Wesley.

“Uh, heh – ooh! Uh, guess we’re all straggling back, some more straggly-like than others. Are you –?”

Wesley nodded. “Just a lot to take in.”

The elevator bell dinged, the doors slid open, and Gunn stepped out.

“You look – did they make you taller?” Fred asked, noticing that he stood straighter than normal.

“I’m doing this,” Gunn announced. “I hope it’s not just me, but if it is, that’s all right, too.”

“As much as it pains me to admit, there’s probably a great deal we could accomplish with the resources available here,” Wesley grudgingly admitted.

Fred looked surprised at Wesley. “I can’t believe it. Are – are you saying we should take the deal?”

“I already took it,” Angel announced, approaching his friends.

“Angel, what – what?” Fred asked confused.

“ _You_ took the deal?” Wesley inquired disbelievingly.

“Executive decision,” Angel told him, by way of explanation.

“I didn’t think you’d ever –” Wesley started to say.

“Know a silver platter when he’s handed one?” Lilah interrupted. “I’m impressed with the lot of you.” She held out her hands encompassing the group. “Team Angel, all growed up.”

Angel leaned closer and whispered, “Is it taken care of?”

Lilah gave him a sidelong glance. “Cordelia’s safe and sound, probably getting a manicure and a blow dry as we speak.”

“Cordelia’s okay?” Fred asked hopefully.

“She’s still in a coma. But hey, it doesn’t mean she can’t look her best,” Lilah said. She looked at Angel. “She’ll receive the finest care, medical and metaphysical. If there is a way to get her back, we’ll find it.”

“Good,” Angel said, holding out a hand.

Lilah handed him the Sunnydale file and amulet. “There’ll be a limo waiting outside. It’ll take you where you want to go.”

“Thank you,” Angel said softly, walking out the door without another word. His friends watched him leave, mystified.

**************************

**  
_California Highway_   
**

A limousine drove down a highway, through the mountains, continuing on past the signpost welcoming drivers to Sunnydale's outskirts, as darkness blanketed the land.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery_   
**

Caleb stalked toward Buffy, punching powerfully at her, but she ducked again, causing Caleb to punch his fist into a rack of wine bottles rather than her face. Buffy ran up a rack of wine barrels as Caleb dashed toward her, then she jumped over his head.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Tunnel_   
**

Faith fought off Bringers, the Potentials doing their part as well. Amanda shot a crossbow at a Bringer, but missed. She charged him, screaming with rage and the intention to finish him off. Backed into a corner, Vi fought a Bringer with a sword. Kennedy used her sword expertly to finish off a couple of the Bringers by herself. Vi finally got it together, punching her opponent, knocking him down, before running him through with her sword. Faith stabbed a Bringer with his own knife.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery_   
**

Buffy ran away from Caleb toward the back of the cellar.

“You whore!” Caleb shouted after her.

Buffy stopped running, turning to face him, and said casually, “You know, you really should watch your language. If someone didn’t know you, they might think you were a woman-hating jerk.”

Enraged, Caleb pushed over a wine barrel, charging toward Buffy. Buffy glanced toward the back corner, seeing an open hatch in the floor – it was glowing because of the Bringers welding in the room below. She grinned, ducking under Caleb's punch and sliding across the floor, down through the hatch in the floor. Just as she slid in, the door shut and wine barrels fall atop it, holding the door down, securely.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Tunnel_   
**

Faith stood up, looking around at all of the dead Bringers – and the Potentials who were still standing.

“Is that it?” Vi asked.  “I mean, not that it wasn’t fun, but –”

“Yo, Faith,” Kennedy yelled cutting off Vi. “Check this out.”

Kennedy shined her flashlight at something in the corner. Faith cautiously approached the shape, discovering a doorway leading down a flight of stairs. The girls followed her down, Faith taking a flashlight from one of the Potentials.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery_   
**

Buffy entered the cave-like grotto under the wine cellar, staring with wonder at an arcane object she'd never seen before, but somehow felt calling to her.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Tunnel_   
**

Faith walked across a plank laid over a small waterway, spotting a padlocked wooden crate.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery_   
**

Buffy approached the enormous boulder upon which the Bringers had been toiling only moments before. Embedded in the rock was a shining weapon with a wide, rounded blade on one end, and a spike like point on the end of the shaft. Buffy’s eyes widened as she stared at it in awe, a smile playing across her face.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Tunnel_   
**

Faith kicked the padlock, busting it open. She bent to open the box, revealing a detonator in the midst of counting down from _00:08_ , wired to a box filled with C4 explosives. She immediately jumped back as if electrocuted, shouting, “Everybody, get down!”

_00:07_   
_00:06_   
_00:05_


	21. Chapter 67-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

## 

_Chapter 67-A: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 17)_

**_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Winery_ **

Like a kid in a candy store, Buffy stared at the shiny weapon embedded in the rock and slowly walked up to it, entranced. Caleb opened the hatch and walked down the stairs into the room, Buffy turned to look at him.

“So, you found it,” Caleb acknowledged. “Not impressed. ’Cause the question now, girly girl, is – can you pry it from solid rock before I come over there –?”

Buffy grabbed the handle, pulling the weapon clear of the stone with one-handed ease. She looked it over admiringly.

Caleb looked suitably stunned. After all the time his Bringers worked to free that damnable weapon, this girl grabbed it like it weighed nothing. “Hmm. Darn.” He exhaled worriedly, backing away. “Now, before you go hurting yourself with that thing, why don’t you do yourself a courtesy and hand it over now?”

Buffy cocked her head to one side, appearing to consider his suggestion. “Yeah? You want it?” She casually hefted the weapon.

Caleb smiled uneasily, taking a step back. “You don’t even know what you got there.”

“I know you’re backing away.” Buffy smugly pointed out.

“Do you think wielding a two-sided doo-dad is going to make a difference?” Caleb challenged with feigned bravado.

Wrapped in a semblance of Buffy, the First Evil appeared behind Caleb, arms crossed, frowning.

“Let her go, Caleb,” the First Evil ordered. When Caleb hesitated, it repeated, “I said, let her go.”

“If I let her go, she slices me open with that thing,” Caleb complained.

“No, she doesn’t, she hasn’t got the time. She has friends,” the First Evil explained, causing Buffy to look at her inquiringly. “And her friends are in trouble. Faith go boom.”

“I’m not letting her out of here with that thing,” Caleb argued.

“Sure you are,” The First Evil said. “Then you’ll come back for it later – when she’s got her back turned.”

Buffy dashed out of the cellar, carrying the weapon, while Caleb and the First watched her leave.

**************************

  
  
**  
**  
_Sunnydale, Tunnel_  


The air was hazy with dust and debris from the explosion. Girls began to move amidst the rubble, crawling around. Amanda, a Potential Slayer, grabbed a flashlight, getting to her feet.

“Hey!” Amanda called out through the thick haze. “Hey, Faith! Anybody! Is anybody here?!”

Caridad, another Potential, coughed and yelled back, “Me!”

Amanda called out, “Is anybody else alive?”

“Hello? Anyone?” Caridad called out.

“I’m –” Vi, another Potential, coughed and tried again, weakly, “I’m here!”

Amanda and Caridad carefully made their way over the debris to Vi, who was crouching in a corner. They helped her to her feet.

“Anyone else?” Caridad asked.

“I don’t know,” Vi replied as they helped her to walk. “I think my arm is broken.” She noticed a limb and squinted through the haze of smoke. There were girls lying on the ground under the rubble, not moving. She stared around at disaster surrounding them, shocked. “I guess I’m lucky.”

A few feet away, Kennedy stood up, dusting herself off. “Where’s Faith?”

“I don’t know,” Vi replied.

“Find her,” Kennedy ordered.

“Maybe we should get the hell out of this place,” Vi suggested. “They could –”

“Find her!” Kennedy stressed emphatically.

Shortly, Amanda and a couple of the other girls discovered Faith’s unconscious body partly submerged in a puddle of water and pulled her out.

“Oh, God!” Vi choked up, turning away from the sight.

“Is she alive?” Kennedy asked.

Amanda checked. “She’s breathing, and there’s a pulse.”

“We gotta get her out of here,” Kennedy observed.

“Which way is out?” Vi asked.

“There’s other girls,” Amanda reminded them. “There’s more than Faith. We don’t even know how many of us are still –” Everyone froze, simultaneously hearing a distant growl. Amanda gulped then finished, “Alive.”

“What was that?” Caridad asked nervously.

“It could’ve been grinding metal. It could’ve been –” Vi suggested anxiously.

“No, it was one of them,” Kennedy dashed the false hope.

“That’s not possible,” Caridad denied.

“How’d it get in here?” Amanda asked.

“Plan, anyone?” Vi inquired.

“Run!” Kennedy replied.

Running from the room where they'd barely survived the explosion, the girls sought to escape along the same tunnel through which they'd entered the cavern.

“Oh, no! It’s blocked!” Caridad exclaimed as they arrived at a cave-in.

“Oh my God!” Vi cried.

“I told you this wasn’t the way!” Amanda shouted.

“Shut up!” Kennedy yelled. “Up and over! Wounded first! Let’s go!”

The girls struggled to climb over the debris blocking the tunnel, but with the number of girls trying to get through, it took longer than they anticipated. When Vi, the last girl in line, came over the pile, a Turok-Han grabbed for her. The girls screamed, backing away in terror as they watched it climb over the pile more deftly than they had, stalking toward them.

“Group together,” Kennedy ordered. “Form a circle. Nobody panic. It’s all of us, one of him. We can take one of these things.”

While the frightened girls stared at the Turok-Han advancing on them, another Turok-Han jumped down the steps behind the group.

Kennedy held her fists up in front of her. “Remember the training. Everybody, get ready!” The Turok-Han on the stairs sneaked up behind her, grabbing her and flinging her to the ground. She screamed.

“There’s another one,” Amanda yelled in alarm.

Kennedy freed herself from the Turok-Han that ambushed her, backing away from it. “Move! Move! Move! Up and over!”

“Not that one!” Amanda yelled, pointing in another direction. “That one!”

The girls screamed in unison as three Turok-Hans advanced on them, grabbing one of the girls.

“Weapons!” Caridad pointed. “Over there!”

Kennedy ran to the stockpile of weapons, but the Turok-Han were already ripping apart the girl they'd captured. One turned its attention on Kennedy, snarling, face covered with the unfortunate girl’s blood. It charged toward Kennedy, who swung the bladed weapon at the monster, but to no avail. The Turok-Han easily disarmed her, grabbing her by the neck and lifting her off the ground, choking her.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the room as something heavy fell from the ceiling, allowing light to pour into the room from above. Buffy jumped down through the backlit hole, into the room. She carried the bladed weapon she had earlier discovered in the vineyard. The Turok-Han dropped Kennedy in a heap, stalking after Buffy, who swung the weapon at the Turok-Han when it neared her, using the pointed end to stake the first Turok-Han then the other. The third Turok-Han charged Buffy, knocking her down, but the blonde Slayer tumbled forward, grabbing her weapon, leaping to her feet and beheading the last Turok-Han, turning it to dust before everyone’s eyes.

The girls who, up until this point, were frozen into immobility with fear, now stared incredulously at the sight of Buffy in action. Kennedy panted, massaging her neck.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence_ **

When Buffy and the Potentials got back to the Summers house, the living room turned into an impromptu triage unit as the healthy girls treated the wounds of those injured in the explosion.

“Will, come here,” Buffy called out as she tended to a wounded girl. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Got it,” Willow replied as she appeared next to Buffy, taking over as Buffy moved out of the way.

Buffy turned to watch as Giles and Xander carried an unconscious Faith through the front door and up the stairs. Kennedy and Amanda stood in the doorway looking concerned and uncomfortable. Buffy took charge of the situation, directing Giles and Xander, “The room upstairs is ready for her.”

“Good,” Giles acknowledged in passing.

“I hope we’re in time,” Xander observed apprehensively.

“Is she okay? Is she going to be okay?” Amanda asked worriedly.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Kennedy said in an attempt at comfort. She looked to Buffy for affirmation. “Right?”

Buffy supervised Xander and Giles maneuvering the stairs, calling after them, “I’ll be up in a second.”

“You guys heal fast, right? You Slayers?” Kennedy asked.

“Yeah,” Buffy acknowledged, turning and walking back through the living room, toward the kitchen, with Kennedy close on her heels.

“So – she’ll be okay?” Kennedy asked.

“I don’t know,” Buffy replied.

“What’s with the axe thing?” Caridad inquired, gesturing at the weapon Buffy still carried.

Buffy held it up, looking at it as if she’d forgotten she was carrying it. In truth, it felt like a part of her as much as her arm or leg. “I took it from Caleb. It might be important.”

“I think we got punished,” Amanda postulated fearfully.

“What?” Buffy asked confused.

“We, uh – we followed her,” Kennedy explained nervously. “And it was –”

“It didn’t work out,” Vi finished.

Buffy felt the need to roll her eyes at the girls’ self-recrimination. “You guys, it was a trap. It’s not her fault. That could’ve just as easily happened to me.”

“So, are you – are you back?” Caridad asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m not leaving,” Buffy replied, grabbing the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink then carrying it, and her new weapon, up the stairs.

“So, do we got a plan now, or anything?” Kennedy challenged.

“Yeah, there’s a plan. Get ready. Time’s up,” Buffy quipped, disappearing upstairs.

“I still think we got punished,” Amanda said to herself as she returned to the living room.

**************************

  
  
**  
_Summers’ Residence, Master Bedroom_  
**

A couple of the Potentials stood out of the way, against the walls of the room, watching as Giles and Xander settled Faith's body on the bed. Giles was taking the fallen Slayer's pulse when Buffy entered the room and the blonde Slayer was clearly troubled by the sight, recalling flashes of a dream involving Faith's blood staining the bedsheets.

“Is she breathing okay?” Xander asked Giles.

Giles nodded. “Still unconscious, though.”

“We’ve still got work to do,” Buffy announced, handing the first-aid kit to Giles.

**************************

  
**  
_Summers’ Residence, Willow’s Bedroom, Night_  
**

With Faith laid up in Buffy’s room, Willow, Giles and Buffy congregated in Willow’s room. The shiny scythe-and-stake weapon stood up against the side of the bed, on display.

“I think it’s maybe some kind of scythe. The only thing I know for sure is that it made Caleb back off in a hurry,” Buffy told them.

Willow giggled to herself. “So, it’s true? Scythe matters.” She pushed playfully at Giles when he failed to elicit the slightest smile at her intentionally lame joke.

“And, ignoring that, I’d just like to point out this is really quite ingenious,” Giles commented, picking up the weapon and inspecting it with undisguised admiration.

“Kills strong bodies three ways,” Buffy observed proudly.

“And you say you sense something when you hold it?” Willow inquired.

Buffy shrugged. “Not much, but it’s strong. And I knew it belonged to me. I just knew it.”

Giles was still eying the weapon analytically. “In addition to being ancient, it’s clearly mystical.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out when I King-Arthured it out of the stone,” Buffy remarked casually.

“So maybe it’s like some kind of traditional Slayer weapon,” Willow suggested.

“I can’t imagine how something like this could exist without my having heard of it,” Giles said, more to himself than to the girls.

“Well, the good guys are not traditionally known for their communication skills,” Buffy pointed out.

“Right,” Giles cleared his throat. “Any chance that it might be something other than a tool for killing things?”

“The First Evil’s guys clearly wanted it out of that stone. It’s not just a tool. It’s important. We need to find out whatever we can. Who made it, when, why? Does it have a name?” Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know, a credit report? Just find out fast.”

“We’ll get started immediately,” Giles assured her.

“Yeah, don’t worry, Buff,” Willow opened her laptop. “We’ll find out everything there is to know.”

“Good, because right now, that thing’s all we’ve got going for us,” Buffy told them before walking out of the room, leaving them to their research.

**************************

  
**  
_Summers’ Residence, Living Room, Night_  
**

Andrew and Anya were in the living room ripping apart bedsheets to use as makeshift bandages.

“I liked the real bandages better,” Andrew said. “These bedsheets are awfully festive. Ecch!”

“Yeah,” Anya agreed as she bandaged a Potential’s shoulder. “They’re going to look like mortally wounded Easter baskets.”

“What?” the groggy Potential asked, alarmed by the word, ‘mortally’.

Anya shrugged, taking a swig from a liquor bottle.

“H-hey! We’re supposed to use that to sterilize wounds,” Andrew whined in protest. “Mr. Giles said!”

“What does it really matter?” Anya asked, passing the bottle to him.

“Hmm,” Andrew pondered the idea before accepting the bottle from her and drinking. “Good point.”

“Giles knows his single malt antiseptics,” Anya commented.

“Blech,” Andrew shook his head at the awful taste. “Everything’s horrible.”

Anya looked around at the mêlée of wounded bodies. “Yep. Many of these girls will die. A slaughterhouse is what it is.”

“What?!” the groggy Potential asked with increased alarm.

Anya glanced down at the wounded girl. “Oh, don’t. Trying to talk will just kill you sooner.”

“We need supplies, and not just bandages and junk. These – these girls need stitches and painkillers,” Andrew observed, taking mental inventory of the wounded.

“Yeah, well, I could use a cookie, but I’m not making reckless wishes,” Anya quipped offhandedly.

“No, no,” Andrew said. “We can do it. The hospital. It’s got to be all abandoned, like the grocery store, earlier. Supplies just laying around for the taking.” Anya looked at him blankly. He stood up, taking a drink from the liquor bottle for courage. “I’m going in.”

Anya popped up on her feet, eyeing him with unconcealed surprise. “You are?”

“And you’re coming with me,” Andrew announced drunkenly.

“I am?” Anya asked, disbelievingly.

“Well, I think you should drive ’cause that scotch made me a little dizzy,” Andrew told her.

Anya smiled. “Okay, I’ll get Kennedy to watch the girls. She’s tough. Imminent death won’t bother her.”

“What?!” the groggy Potential sat up in alarm at those parting words, but Anya and Andrew were already gone.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Kitchen_**

Buffy and Xander stood at the kitchen island involved in a private discussion while the other Potentials and core Scoobies tended to the wounded in the living room.

“You got it?” Buffy asked after she explained her plan.

“Wait,” Xander said, holding up his hands. “I’m not at the ‘got it’ place yet. I’m still in the neighborhood of ‘you’ve gotta be kidding’.”

Buffy sighed. “You know it’s for the good.”

“I don’t,” Xander shook his head. “Buffy, do you get that? If I do this, that’s it for me for this fight. I feel like you’re putting me out to pasture.”

Buffy scoffed. “Of course I’m not putting you out to pasture. What does that even mean?”

“Well, you know, it’s like, uh--” Xander considered the best analogy to use. “It’s like when a cow gets old and loses an eye, or its ability to be milked, the farmer takes it and puts it in a different pasture so it won’t have to – fight – with the priests.” He chuckled at the delivery. “Look, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I’m not,” Buffy denied.

“I got hurt, but I’m not done. I can still fight,” Xander entreated.

“I know. That’s why I need you to do this. Xander, I need someone that I can count on no matter what happens,” Buffy explained.

Xander shook his head in denial. “I just always thought that I would – I would be there with you – you know, for the end.”

“Hey!” Buffy cried indignantly.

“Well, not that this is the end,” Xander quickly covered.

“Thanks a lot,” Buffy remarked, still indignant.

“No, no, no,” Xander hurriedly said. “By ‘the end’, I meant, uh – a heroic, uplifting way. See, I’m still optimistic,” Xander pointed to his covered eye. “You’re just thrown off a little by this gritty-looking eye patch.”

Buffy smiled at the attempt to joke about his injury. “I know what you meant.”

“I should be at your side. That’s all I’m saying,” Xander declared in a final attempt to change her mind.

“You will be,” Buffy said. “You’re my strength, Xander. You’re the reason I made it this far. I trust you with my life. That’s why I need you to do this for me.”

“Okay,” Xander finally acquiesced, his eye getting a little misty at the sentimental compliment.

“Besides, you can’t shoot a bow-and-arrow anymore, and every time you pick up a sword, I worry that you’re gonna break one of our good lamps,” Buffy quipped.

“Hey!” Xander cried indignantly.

“Don’t look at me,” Buffy said innocently. “You’re the one who said I’m going to die.” With that, she walked out of the room.

“I never said you were going to die,” Xander argued, following her. “I-I _implied_ that you were going to die. It’s totally different.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Buffy said noncommittally.

“Beside, if you die,” Xander shrugged. “I’ll just bring you back to life. It’s what I do.”

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Willow’s Room, Dusk_**  
  


The scythe that Buffy had pulled out of the stone in the wine cellar, currently leaned against the side of the bed in the master bedroom. Willow and Giles were engaged in an animated discussion over it as Willow researched on her laptop and Giles pored through his books.

“Okay, before the vineyard was just, you know, a vineyard, it was a monastery. Could’ve been put there then. Some creepy monks messing with powers they don’t understand,” Willow surmised.

Giles considered the possibility then shook his head. “No, it's older than that. It’s pre-Christian.”

“Okay, well I found reference to stories the monks used to tell about something older. Uh, like some kind of pagan temple,” Willow continued.

“Native American?” Giles asked.

“No. I don’t know. Ugh. Okay, maybe we’re just going about this the wrong way.” Willow had a page detailing the history of the axe pulled up on her laptop. “Maybe we should research the weapon itself. Like – look. Maybe it’s the Axe of Dekeron, said to have been forged in hell itself, lost since the Children’s Crusade, where it was said to have killed –” Willow scrunched her nose in disgust. “Oh. Children.” She looked over at Giles. “I hope that’s not it.”

“Well, I have reference to the Sword of Moskva, the, uh – Reaper of the Tigris. How are we supposed to narrow this down? The illustrations are never clear enough.” Giles set his book aside, rising to stretch his legs. He walked over to the window, looking out at the night sky. “We’re running out of time. We really haven’t got anything useful.” Willow rose and walked over to the weapon. Giles turned to watch her as she picked it up, holding it. “Do you sense any of the power that Buffy spoke about?”

“Nope,” Willow replied, setting the weapon down again. “Must be a Slayer thing.”

Giles crossed the room, back to Willow, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Tapping into magicks might help with that.”

Willow was surprised by his suggestion, but quickly recovered. “Maybe. But, I mean, if Caleb is scared of this thing, it must be pretty dangerous. And tapping into that –” She backed away from the weapon, distancing herself from its potential power.

“Willow, you could do it without endangering yourself,” Giles encouraged.

“If I tried something big, I’d change,” Willow remarked apprehensively. “And then it’s all black hair and veins and lightning bolts. I can hardly do a locator spell without getting dark roots.”

“And if it was necessary?” Giles asked with soft intensity.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” Willow returned to her computer, where she felt safer.

Giles sighed. “All right. Do what you can. That’s all any of us can do.”

“I guess so. Ugh. Man, none of these sound right,” Willow said as she scrolled down the webpage. “I mean, look. Here’s one that’s just ‘M?’. What the heck is that?”

“Let me see,” Giles said, rising and moving closer to look over her shoulder. “It’s not a question mark. It’s an international phonetics alphabet symbol for glottal stop.”

“A what?” Willow asked.

“It’s sort of a gulping noise. It’s – remembering something here. Um. Ah – Hieroglyphs. Hieroglyphs stand for sets of consonants, as you know,” Giles explained.

“Yeah,” Willow prompted.

“‘M’ plus glottal stop is represented by a picture that’s commonly thought to symbolize a sickle, or a scythe. It’s in thousands of carvings. In Egypt, throughout the ancient world,” Giles continued.

“Carvings – like you’d have on a pagan temple?” Willow asked.

“Go back. See what else we can find out about this temple,” Giles said as he picked up the weapon. “The scythe is a symbol of death. Let’s see where these pagans buried their dead.”

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Shadow Valley Vineyards, Wine Cellar_**  


Enraged, Caleb threw a barrel across the room. It split open, red wine gushing out to bathe the walls and floor with deep, liquid red.

“Not that I care personally,” remarked the First Evil, popping up in the guise of Buffy. “But you are wasting a lot of robust, full-bodied merlot.”

“Why did you let her go?” Caleb demanded. “You know I can take her in a fight.”

“We’ll get her. Calm down,” The First Evil said without a note of actual soothing.

“I am calm,” Caleb seethed. “You should see me when I get angry.”

“She’s powerful right now. And you’re weak,” The First Evil pointed out.

“You know, all of a sudden, I’m getting less calm,” Caleb sniped.

“Face it. You’re strength is waning. It has been quite some time since we’ve –” Her expression became seductive. “Merged.”

“Maybe you’re right. Okay, let’s do it,” Caleb decided.

“Boy, you sure know how to romance a girl,” the First Evil commented dryly. “No flowers, no dinner, no tour of the rectory. Just, ‘okay, I’m ready. Let’s do it.’ Help me. My knees are weak.” The First Evil rolled its big Buffy eyes.

“Watch what you say now. You’re starting to sound like her,” Caleb warned. “This is a sacred experience for me.”

“And for me as well. Look, when this is all over, and our armies spring forth, and our will sweeps the world, I will be able to enter every man, woman, and child on this Earth, just as I enter you,” the First Evil revealed.

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” Caleb asked.

“I’m trying to make you a God,” the First Evil replied.

The First Evil and Caleb stood across from each other, facing each other with their arms wide open. The First Evil changed from Buffy's shape into a demonic apparition – huge, with two horns on its head, and red, glowing eyes. The First Evil lunged toward Caleb, glowing and growling.

“I am thy humble servant,” Caleb answered.

The First Evil’s energy contracted into a beach ball-sized glowing light and entered Caleb, causing him to wobble on his feet, unbalancing him. His head lolled back on his neck and he collapsed on the ground. When he sat up again, his eyes were black.

“And I am ready to serve thee,” Caleb pronounced in a deep, demonic voice.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Buffy’s Room, Night_**  


Faith lay on the bed, holding the scythe in front of her, looking it over. Buffy stood beside the bed, watching over her looking at the weapon.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Buffy asked rhetorically.

“Damn,” Faith remarked, feeling the power emanating from the scythe. “And damn, that’s something.” She laid it on the bed beside her.

“I know,” Buffy agreed.

“It’s old. It’s strong. It feels like – like it’s mine.” Faith looked up at Buffy. “I guess that means it’s yours.”

“It belongs to the Slayer,” Buffy corrected her, picking up the scythe.

“Slayer in charge, which, I’m guessing, is you,” Faith observed.

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed. “I honestly don’t know. Does it matter?” she asked.

Faith shrugged. “It never mattered to me. Somebody has to lead. Let’s vote for Chao-Ahn. It’s harder to lead people into a death trap if you don’t speak English.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Buffy told her.

Faith looked away, clearly disheartened by her failure. “I’m really not looking for forgiveness.”

“You’re not?” Buffy raised an eyebrow.

“What do you want me to say? I blew it,” Faith admitted.

“You didn’t blow it,” Buffy contradicted.

“Tell that to –” Faith started to say.

“People die,” Buffy interrupted. “You lead them into battle, they’re going to die. It doesn’t matter how ready you are, or how smart you are. War is about death. Needless, stupid death.”

“So, here’s the laugh riot: My whole life I’ve been a loner,” Faith started to explain.

“That’s the funny part? Did I miss something?” Buffy interjected.

“I’m trying to –” Faith began again.

Buffy held up a hand. “Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

“No ties, no buddies, no relationships that lasted longer than –” Faith thought for a minute. “Well, Robin lasted pretty long.” She grinned at the memory of the previous night. “Boy’s got stamina.”

“Principal Wood? And you? And in my –” Buffy couldn’t get to her feet fast enough at that thought, beginning to pace.

“Don’t tell me you two got wriggly,” Faith commented.

“No. No. No, no. We’re just good friends. Or mortal enemies, depending on which day of the – was that the funny part?”

Faith shook her head. “Okay. The point: Me, by myself all the time. I’m looking at you, everything you have, and, I don’t know, jealous. Then there I am. Everybody’s looking to me, trusting me to lead them, and I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life.”

“Yeah,” Buffy swallowed, looking down at her feet.

“And that’s you every day, isn’t it?” Faith asked with sudden insight.

“I love my friends. I’m very grateful for them. But that’s the price of being a Slayer,” Buffy admitted.

“There’s only supposed to be one. Maybe that’s why you and I can never get along. We’re not supposed to exist together,” Faith postulated.

“Also, you went evil and were killing people,” Buffy added helpfully.

“Good point. Also a factor,” Faith nodded.

“But you’re right. I mean I – I guess everyone’s alone,” Buffy replied. “Being a Slayer? There’s a burden we can’t share.”

“And no one else can feel it,” Faith observed. After a beat, she said, “Thank God we’re hot chicks with superpowers.”

Buffy nodded. “Takes the edge off.”

“Comforting,” Faith said.

“Mm-hmm,” Buffy agreed.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Foyer, Night_**  


Buffy walked down the stairs, carrying the scythe, just as Spike was coming in the front door. He blinked, the only register of surprise to find her there.

“Honey, you’re home,” he quipped, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah,” Buffy acknowledged with a small smile.

Spike sighed. “And you did it; fulfilled your mission, found the Holy Grail, or the Holy Hand Grenade,” he gestured at the scythe. “Or whatever the hell that is.”

Buffy looked critically at the weapon in her hand. “Right now we’re going with scythe. You like?”

“Well, pointy and wooden is not exactly the look I wanna know better, but it does have flair. Can see why a girl would ditch a fella for one of these,” Spike admitted.

“I’m sorry about that,” Buffy apologized, walking away.

Spike followed her down the hall, toward the kitchen. “It doesn’t matter. You’re back in the bosom. All’s forgiven. And, uh,” Spike stopped at the door, standing in front of her. “Last night – was just a glitch. A bit of cold comfort from the cellar dweller. Let’s not make a thing of it.”

“Great. I have work to do,” Buffy dismissed the episode.

“Oh, yeah,” Spike nodded. “Another solo mission, of course.”

“Yeah, it is,” Buffy confirmed.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to get shirty about it,” Spike remarked defensively.

“I’m not shirty. And what is ‘shirty’? That’s not even a word,” Buffy said.

“All right. All right. It’s a big secret mission. It’s fine,” Spike deferred.

“It’s not a secret. Well, I mean, it is, but that’s the point of the mission,” Buffy explained. “To find out the secret. This thing was forged by – I don’t even know. I mean, something about – a tomb on unconsecrated ground. That’s what I have to do. I need to find out what this,” she gestured with the scythe in her hand, “is and why I have it.”

“And that’s the thing the preacher man was so anxious to keep out of your mitts?” Spike asked.

“That it is.”

“Well, maybe I’ll swing by the vineyard when you go, make sure he’s sitting tight,” Spike offered.

“Great,” Buffy quickly acquiesced.

“Okay then,” Spike turned, intending to leave by the back door.

Buffy huffed, following him. “You’re a dope.”

“I’m a what?” Spike scoffed, thinking being called a ‘dope’ was dumber than him accusing her of being ‘shirty’.

“You’re a dope. And a bonehead. And you’re shirty,” she tossed back childishly.

“Have you gone completely carrot-top?” Spike asked.

“Do you see this?” Buffy held up the scythe. “This may actually help me fight my war. This might be the key to everything. And the reason I’m holding it is because of you. Because of the strength that you gave me last night. Look, I’m tired of defensiveness and weird, mixed signals. You know, I have Faith for that. Let’s just get to the truth here, okay? I don’t know how you felt about last night, but I will not –”

“Terrified,” Spike interrupted. He let out a shaky breath, refusing to look at her.

“Of what?” Buffy asked.

“Last night was –” Spike looked around everywhere that wasn't where she stood. As if the right words might be hiding in a corner. “God, I’m such a jerk. I can’t do this.”

“Spike –” Buffy said his name imploringly.

“It was one of the best nights of my life,” Spike finally blurted. When the blonde Slayer only stared at him, waiting for a further explanation, he added, “If you poke fun at me, you bloody well better use that,” he gestured at the scythe in her hand. “’Cause I couldn’t bear it. It may not mean that much to you, but –”

“I just told you it did,” Buffy corrected him.

Spike sighed. “Yeah, I hear you say it, but – I’ve lived for soddin’ ever, Buffy. I’ve done everything. Done things with you I can’t spell, but – the only people I’ve been close to are Angel and, last night, with you. Hell, all I did was –” Spike smiled at the memory of the previous night, “Hold you, watch you sleep. And outside of the night Angel reclaimed me, it was one of the best nights of my life. So, yeah – I’m – terrified.”

“You don’t have to be,” Buffy softly assured him.

Spike looked critical at her. “Were you there with me?”

Buffy looked him straight in the eyes and replied, “I was.”

“What does that mean?” Spike inquired.

“I don’t know. Does it have to mean something?” Buffy asked.

“No, not right now. Let’s just leave it,” Spike said, opening the door.

“Okay,” Buffy agreed.

“We’ll go be heroes,” Spike declared before walking outside.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Cemetery, Night_**  


Buffy walked among the tombstones, as she had on so many nights before, but this night was different – she carried the scythe. She opened a gate, approaching a pyramid-shaped tomb – and kicked down the door. She descended the stone steps, penetrating ever deeper into the bowels of the tomb, discovering it dimly lit by torches set into sconces along the walls. As she touched the ground, a woman’s voice came from behind a drape.

“I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten how young you would be,” remarked the disembodied female voice.

The drape opened and Buffy was confronted by an aged woman whose long, bone-white hair hung behind her like a cloak.

“It comes from the waiting,” the woman continued. “The mind plays tricks. I see you’ve found our weapon.”

“Who are you?” Buffy asked.

“One of many,” the woman replied. “Well – time was. Now I’m alone in the world.”

“So, what are you? Some kind of ghost?” Buffy persisted.

The old woman chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Nope. I’m as real as you are. Just, well, let me put it this way – I look good for my age. I’ve been waiting.” She held out her hands and Buffy handed over the scythe without question. “You pulled it out of the rock. I was one of those who put it in there.”

“What is it?” Buffy asked.

The woman admired the weapon. “A weapon. A scythe.” Buffy rolled her eyes at that as the woman continued, “Forged in secrecy for one like you who – I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

“Buffy,” she replied.

The old woman looked disbelieving.

“No, really.” Buffy shrugged.

“We forged it in secrecy and kept it hidden from the Shadow Men, who –”

“Yeah. I met those guys,” Buffy interrupted. “Didn’t really care too much for them.”

“Ahh, yes,” the woman nodded. “Then you know. And they became the Watchers. And the Watchers watched the Slayers, but we were watching them.”

If asked, Buffy would say there was a lot of voyeurism permeating the myth of her Calling. “Okay. So you’re like – what are you?”

“Guardians,” the woman replied. “Women who want to help and protect you. We forged this, centuries ago, halfway around the world.”

Buffy looked around the fire-lit tomb. “Hence, the Luxor Casino theme.”

“Forged there, it was put to use right here,” the woman explained, “to kill the last pure demon that walked upon the Earth. The rest were already driven under. And then there were men here, and then there were monks, and then there was a town, and now there is you. And the Scythe remained hidden.”

“I don’t understand,” Buffy shook her head. “How is it possible that we didn’t know any of this?”

“We hid, too,” the woman replied. “We had to until now. We’re the last surprise.”

“Does this mean I can win?” Buffy asked.

“That is really up to you. This is a powerful weapon,” the woman handed the Scythe back to Buffy. “But you already have weapons.”

“Oh?” Buffy mused.

“Use it wisely and perhaps you can beat back the rising dark. One way or another, it can only mean an end is truly near.”

Suddenly, the woman’s head cocked slightly to one side, and a cracking noise echoed in the chamber. The woman fell to the ground. Buffy looked up to discover Caleb standing behind the fallen Guardian.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that last part on account of her neck snapping and all,” Caleb said as if he were discussing the weather. “Did she say the end is _near_ – or _here_?”

Instinct taking over, Buffy swung the Scythe at Caleb, but he grabbed it with ease, pushing her away. They swiftly exchanged powerful punches and jabs. Caleb, after melding with the First Evil, was much stronger than before. He demonstrated as much when he tried to punch Buffy, but she ducked, and his fist went through a stone pillar instead.

Caleb let out an evil laugh. “You’re not slipping out of this fight, girl. Can’t you see? You can’t stop me. I can just keep going back for more. It’s like being reborn.”

Buffy swung the Scythe at Caleb’s head, but he ducked, tossing her against a wall, cracking it. He kicked her into the air and punched her in the stomach before she fell to the ground again. Kicking her in the head, he grabbed the Scythe from her, but Buffy kicked it out of his hands, into the air, grabbing the Scythe in midair and kicking Caleb to the floor. She moved to stab him with the stake-end of the Scythe, but he stopped her from plunging it into his chest then laughed, pushing her away and snatching the Scythe from her, throwing it to the ground as he stalked toward her. He punched her repeatedly until she fell to the floor.

“You know, I gave you ample warning. I told you not to interfere, but you chose not to heed,” Caleb admonished.

Ignoring him, Buffy charged Caleb, but he deflected her, tossing the blonde Slayer atop a sarcophagus. She kicked at him as he picked her up by the lapels of her jacket, swinging her bodily into one of the stone pillars with such violence that one of the stones shifted out of place. Buffy collapsed on the ground and Caleb picked up the Scythe with a self-satisfied expression.

“I was kind of hoping it’d go this way,” Caleb mused. He reared back with the Scythe, bloodlust sparkling in his mad eyes as he gazed at Buffy.

“Hey!” A large fist swung out of nowhere, knocking Caleb to the ground with such force that the impact knocked the Scythe out of his grasp.

Buffy glanced at Caleb’s inert body then up to find Angel standing there, dressed all in black, as if he were a mirage conjured by her defeated mind and brought to life to avenge her after Caleb had beaten her in the fight. But this Angel was real, holding out a large hand to her that enveloped and held her smaller one with gentle power as he drew her to her feet.

“I was never much for preachers,” Angel admitted with a smirk.

“Angel,” Buffy breathed his name as if it was a blessing.

“You look good,” Angel complimented her conversationally, as if they weren’t meeting in the middle of another apocalypse.

“You look timely,” Buffy said, still stunned to see him there, then she smiled. “And also good.”

“Heard maybe you needed a hand,” Angel started to say, but Caleb returned to his feet at that moment, and Angel was prepared to gallantly finish him off, but Buffy stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Ah, it’s one of those things you have to finish yourself,” Angel conceded.

“Really kinda is,” Buffy smiled in thanks.

Angel backed away to assume a casual stance against a pillar where he would be out of the way, but could still have an unobstructed view of the fight. Caleb stalked toward Buffy.

Angel crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the pillar. “You are so going to lose,” he remarked, with dark amusement, to Caleb.

Buffy and Caleb resumed their battle. Caleb grabbed the Scythe away from Buffy, punching her, sending her stumbling across the room. Then he pointed the stake-end of the Scythe at Buffy, charging her as she braced with her back against the wall. He missed, lodging the Scythe in the stone wall beside the blonde Slayer. Buffy pulled the Scythe out of the wall, kicking Caleb away from her like an unwelcome cur.

“God, I missed watching this,” Angel admired the young woman's style.

Buffy swung the Scythe at Caleb, slicing his stomach, and he stumbled backward, laughing heartily and wagging a finger at her as he fell to the floor.

“See?” Buffy glanced at Angel. “Under control.”

“Well, at least you could tell me you’re glad to see me,” Angel said, strolling toward Buffy.

Buffy dropped the Scythe to the floor, meeting Angel halfway and pressing herself against his body, kissing him deeply on the lips, their tongues greeting each other.

Spike watched from the shadows of the cavern as his mate kissed the Slayer. He thought he and the Slayer had become better friends, but right there, before his disbelieving eyes, she was kissing his mate.

Angel finally broke the kiss, drawing back. “Well, I guess that qualifies as ‘happy to see me’.”

Buffy gazed up into his eyes, smiling. “Angel, what are you doing –” she stopped herself. “Don’t even. I just want to bask.” She looked up at him, beaming for a few seconds, before snapping out of it. “Okay, I’m basked. What are you doing here?”

“Not saving the damsel in distress, that’s for sure,” Angel pointed out.

“You know me,” Buffy quipped, picking up the Scythe. “Not much for damseling.”

“Got your share of distress, though,” he countered, walking over to a wall where an envelope lay on a bench.

“You heard?” Buffy inquired.

Angel picked up the file folder. “I got coverage on the whole thing. It’s very gripping. It needs a third act.”

Buffy shook her head at him. “You have to leave L.A.”

“It’s The First, right? The First Evil. The power that tried to convince me to kill myself,” Angel asked.

“Yeah,” Buffy confirmed. “It’s gotten a little more ambitious since then. It’s raising an army.”

“Yeah, well, it failed once, and I’m here to tell you –” Angel started to say.

Caleb suddenly stood up behind Angel, striking him viciously across the back of his head with a statue of Bastet, knocking him across the floor of the tomb. Caleb approached Buffy, black blood streaming from his eyes and nose. “Are you ready to finish this, bitch?!”

Caleb swung the cat statue at Buffy, but she blocked with the Scythe then intentionally fell to the ground, swinging the Scythe at his legs. He used the statue of Bastet to block the blade, kicked the blonde Slayer across the floor then lobbed the feline statuette at her, but she rose the floor, the Scythe in firm grip.

Buffy took a second to catch her breath as she glared at him. “Okay, how many times do I have to kill you? Ballpark figure?”

“You understand nothing!” Caleb yelled.

Buffy swung at Caleb, but he grabbed the Scythe, holding it still as he delivered two furious punches to Buffy's face before lifting her into the air, pressing her back against the low ceiling. She struggled futilely before Caleb allowed her to fall to the floor just so that he could drag her back to her feet by the lapels of her jacket.

“You think you have power over me?” Caleb ground out.

She broke free of his grip, kicking him and knocking him to the floor.

“Stupid girl,” Caleb swore, getting to his feet. “You’ll never stop me. You don’t have the ba—”

As Caleb stood up, Buffy twirled the Scythe, bringing it up forcefully between his legs. The evil priest's eyes went wide with shock.

“Who does nowadays?” Buffy asked.

Caleb looked down incredulously at the Scythe lodged in his body, between his thighs. Buffy swiftly dragged the Scythe up through his body.

Angel regained consciousness, rising. “Okay! Now I’m pissed. Where is he?”

Buffy looked to her right, her left, then back at Angel. “He had to split.” She uncharacteristically giggled.

Angel collected the fallen folder, passing it to Buffy.

“I’ll have the guys go through that, see if there’s anything new.” She glanced at it. “Reliable source?”

Angel winced at the memory of Lilah Morgan handing him the folder. “Not remotely.”

“Mm, any port in an apocalypse,” Buffy shrugged.

“I, uh, brought something else as well.” Angel reached in his pocket and produced a crystal pendant in a silver starburst setting suspended from a coarse, silver chain, holding up the amulet for Buffy to examine.

Buffy shook her head. “I can already tell you, I have nothing that goes with that.”

“It’s not for you,” Angel contradicted.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know everything. It’s very powerful and probably very dangerous. It has a purifying power, a cleansing power, possibly scrubbing bubbles. The translation is, uh – anyway, it bestows strength to the right person who wears it,” Angel explained.

“And the right person is?” Buffy prompted.

“Someone ensouled, but stronger than human. A champion. As in me,” Angel declared.

“Or me,” Buffy countered.

“No. I don’t know nearly enough about this to risk you wearing it. Besides, you got that real cool axe-thing going for you,” Angel remarked, gesturing at the Scythe.

Spike stalked out the tomb without being noticed. He could only take so much of his Sire/Mate slobbering and fawning over the blonde Slayer.

“So, you’re going to be with me in this?” Buffy asked.

“Shoulder to shoulder,” Angel confirmed.

Buffy thought about it for a moment and said, “No.”

“No, what?” Angel quirked a brow.

“No. You’re not going to be in this fight,” Buffy walked away.

“Why the hell not?” Angel asked, cutting off her path.

“’Cause I can’t risk you,” Buffy told him.

“You need me in this,” Angel insisted.

“No, I need you gone,” Buffy contradicted.

“Why?” Angel inquired.

“If I lose, if this thing gets past Sunnydale, then it’s days – maybe hours – before the rest of the world goes. I need a second front, and I need you to run it,” Buffy explained.

“Okay,” Angel accepted her reason, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s one reason. What’s the other?”

Buffy stepped around him, walking out of the tomb. “There is no other.”

Angel followed her. “Is it Spike?” Buffy stopped, turning to face him. “You’re not telling me something. I know his scent, Buffy. It’s all over you.”

“Vampires,” Buffy cursed under her breath. “Did anybody ever tell you the whole smelling people thing’s a little gross?”

“I know you were in bed with him,” Angel stated flatly. Buffy stared at him. “You forget that we have a telepathic link?”

“It wasn’t sexual by any means,” Buffy defended. “What was the highlight of _our_ relationship? When you broke up with me, or when I killed you? I’m well aware of the loan agreement we have over Spike. You know, in the midst of all this insanity, a couple of things are actually starting to make sense. I always feared there was something wrong with me, you know, because I couldn’t make it work, but maybe I’m not supposed to.”

“Because you’re the Slayer?” Angel asked.

“Because – okay, I’m cookie dough. I’m not done baking. I’m not finished becoming whoever the hell it is I’m going to turn out to be. I make it through this, and the next thing, and the next thing, and maybe one day I turn around and realize I’m ready--I’m cookies. And then, you know, if I want someone to eat –” her eyes went wide as she caught herself. “Or enjoy warm, delicious cookie me, then – that’s fine. That’ll be then. When I’m done.”

“Any thoughts on who might enjoy –” Angel sighed, irritated. “Do I have to go with the cookie analogy?”

“I’m not really thinking that far ahead. That’s kind of the point,” Buffy restated.

Angel handed her the amulet. “I’ll go start working on the second front. Make sure I don’t have to use it.” He started to walk away.

“Angel,” Buffy called after him. He turned to look at her. “I do – sometimes think that far ahead.”

“Sometimes is something,” Angel smiled, backing away, passing under a street lamp.

“Be a long time coming,” Buffy added, more to herself than him. “Years, if ever.”

Angel shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. “I ain’t getting any older.” Then he passed into the shadows beyond the lamplight and was gone.

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion, Night_**  


Angel let himself in to the Crawford mansion, it was still his after all. At least it was Angelus' name on the deed. Spike heard him come in and stopped packing the last of the boxes to confront his mate, ambush style.

“So, do you always pop in to town during an apocalypse to kiss your exes?” Spike asked accusingly.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me, you can smell her on me?”

“Yeah, that, and I also used my enhanced vampire eyeballs to watch you kissing her while I was surveilling the vineyard,” Spike said.

“It was a hello,” Angel dismissed his obvious jealousy.

“Most people don’t use their tongues to say hello,” Spike retorted, but considered the notion. “Or I guess they do, but –”

Angel sighed. “There were no tongues. Besides, she went back to her house.”

Spike raised a brow and sarcastically amended his earlier sentiment. “Oh, just popped by for a quickie in the tomb, then?”

“What are you, five?” Angel asked, heading for the kitchen. “I didn’t have sex with her.”

“Do you still wear lifts?” Spike asked, out-of-the-blue, as he followed Angel.

“Do I what? I have _never_ worn those,” Angel replied, offended by the very idea. He glanced back at Spike without pausing in his trek to the kitchen. “What’s wrong with you?” Angel crossed the kitchen floor to the freezer, taking out a handful of ice, wrapping the pile in a clean hand towel, and putting the homemade cold-pack against the back of his head.

“What happened to you?” Spike asked, a small tone of concern creeping through his annoyance.

“That damn preacher knocked me out,” Angel replied.

“Caleb knocked you out?” Spike asked. “Ponce.”

Angel glared at his errant mate.

“Was that before or after the kiss hello?” Spike asked mockingly.

“After,” Angel answered brusquely. “Why are you so bent out of shape over this? You were the one that was in bed with her last night! I smelled _you_ on her. It was strong.”

“Yeah,” Spike confirmed. “But I didn’t do anything except hold her last night. Angelus marked me. I thought I was yours and his, but clearly Buffy still means more to you than –”

With the mild headache he was sporting, it took Angel a moment to catch on to what Spike was saying. “He **_WHAT_**?”

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Dining Room_**  


Dawn was waiting at the front door when Buffy walked in. The blonde Slayer was shocked to see her sibling there, especially since she specifically instructed Xander to get her out of Sunnydale. Dawn glowered and gave Buffy a swift kick to the shin.

“Ow,” Buffy reacted out of annoyance more than the slight pain.

“Dumbass,” Dawn chided softly.

Buffy glared accusingly at Xander who sat in the dining room with Anya, Giles and Willow.

“Don’t look at me,” Xander defended himself. “This is a Summers thing. It’s all very violent.”

Buffy glanced at Dawn. “If you get killed, I’m telling.” With that, she strode into the dining room, Dawn following close behind her.

“Did you find out anything about the Scythe?” Willow inquired.

“It slices, dices, and makes julienne preacher,” Buffy quipped.

“Caleb?” Giles asked, suddenly avidly interested.

“I cut him in half,” Buffy announced.

“All right!” Willow cheered.

“He had that coming,” Anya asseverated.

“Hey, party in my eye socket, and everyone’s invited,” Xander enjoined heartily. Everyone glanced at him with squeamish expressions. “Sometimes I shouldn’t say words.”


	22. Chapter 67-B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

##  __

Chapter 67-B: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part 17)

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion, Night_**

“I’m surprised you don’t remember,” Spike said. “While Angelus was running loose in L.A., I tracked him down and was doing everything I could to distract him until the cavalry came to take him back to the hotel when he claimed me.” 

“You let him mark you?” Angel asked incredulously. 

“Considering you and he share the same body –” Spike prompted. 

“That’s not the point,” Angel growled. 

“You two have been arguing over me for years now. It never crossed your mind that after you claimed me that he would too? How is that any different from what you did with the Slayer?” Spike asked accusingly. 

“I _didn’t fuck Buffy_ , for one!” Angel shot back. “I just kissed her hello!” 

“Well, there’s sod all we can do about it now!” Spike waved his hands in the air dismissively. 

“I don’t care,” Angel growled. 

“Oh, don’t get all pissy on me,” Spike said. “You were probably listening in on our fucking anyway. It’s your own fault, really.” 

“Shut the hell up,” Angel snapped. “Seeing as it's an apocalypse and my mate's been marked by a soulless demon, and he likes it, do you think you could cut me a little slack?” 

“I would,” Spike retorted, “if you deserved it.” 

Angel glared down at him, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

“Give me a break, Angel,” Spike ignored the warning signs, well aware he was on thin ice and charging ahead anyway. “You’re all ‘I want Buffy to be happy with a real boy’ but the minute she shows any real sign of actually _being_ happy with some git, you tweak out. Pick an opinion, for God’s sake. If you want to be with Buffy so badly, just go be with Buffy.” 

“I can’t,” Angel admitted, staring at the floor. 

“You _won’t_ ,” Spike corrected. 

Angel suddenly grabbed Spike's arm, twisting it behind his back and simultaneously slamming him against a wall. “I’ve told you not to talk about that,” he growled in a low voice. He kept Spike’s arm twisted with one hand, using the other to grab a handful of the slighter vampire's peroxide locks, yanking his head backwards. “It’d be best if you listened to me.” 

Spike snickered, despite his position. “Touchy, touchy. What side of whose bed did you wake up on this morning?” 

Angel pulled his mate's head further back, making Spike wince, but not with displeasure. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

Spike said nothing, he was rock hard against the wall. 

“That's better.” Angel relaxed his grip. 

Spike smiled slyly against the wall. His mate never failed to underestimate him. The second he could wriggle free, he spun around, hooking his foot behind one of Angel's ankles and shoving hard, sending the larger vampire crashing to the floor. 

Angel realized he was going down and was swift to grab Spike's arms, using his greater weight to bring the blonde vampire with him, and managing to turn, cat like, in midair, pinning Spike under him. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Angel demanded. “Did you really think you could beat me?" He slowly shook his head. "Not even cheating." 

“Yeah, I know, you great sod,” Spike said with a smirk, giving his hips a wiggle under Angel's. “But I thought you might appreciate this position more?” He freed one of his hands, sliding it up under Angel’s shirt. 

“Don’t you know the definition of the expression, ‘not in the mood’?” Angel snapped. 

“Yeah,” Spike countered. “Do you know the one that goes, 'liar, liar, pants on fire'?” He unceremoniously yanked open Angel's shirts, the buttons flying away across the room, ticking and clattering on the floor as they skittered into the shadows. He nipped at the broad chest and smirked again, hearing Angel's groan. 

"Spike," Angel's protest was barely more than a moan of encouragement as the younger vampire impatiently tugged the open shirt out of his pants before dipping his fingers just under the waistband. 

Angel caught one of Spike's rebel hands. "Damn it, Spike. What are you doing?" 

“If you don't know, mate, then I'm doing it wrong,” Spike replied saucily, undoing the button and zipper of Angel’s pants. 

“You’re a cheeky, fucking bastard,” Angel groaned. 

“But I'm **_your_** cheeky, fucking bastard,” Spike declared with a grin, rolling Angel over so that the larger vampire was the one on the bottom. 

“Whatever.” Angel threw a powerful arm behind Spike's neck, hauling him down for a fierce, bruising kiss, determined to wipe the smirk from his mate's beloved, infuriating face. "That's better." Angel's hold began to relax when Spike stopped his pretense of resistance, and Spike was quick to take advantage. He leapt to his feet, grabbing Angel's arms and hauling him up, but before Angel could question what was happening, the blonde vampire was falling to his knees and tearing open Angel's black jeans. "What the hell are you doing?" 

Spike looked up at his Sire from under his lashes. "Nothing much. Just want to find out if your cock tastes better when you're Angel or Angelus." 

Angel wanted to call him a cheeky bastard again, but when he felt his mate's mouth cover the head of his dick he forgot his anger, bracing his hands against the wall to maintain his balance as the blonde vampire pushed his mouth all the way down to the dark hair at the base of Angel's shaft. The older vampire was in ecstasy as Spike's mouth and tongue worked his cock over. All too soon, the slighter vampire took his mouth off of Angel's raging dick, rising to stand between the powerful arms of his Sire and staring into his lust-glazed eyes with his cobalt eyes. 

"Not bad," Spike commented nonchalantly. "I think you're holding back though –" 

He was interrupted when Angel clamped a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back to his knees. 

"You never learn. When you start something – you finish it," Angel growled. 

Spike smirked and didn't hesitate in taking Angel's pulsing dick back into his mouth. He heard Angel's groan as he began sucking on the uncircumcised head, loving the taste of his meat. He pushed his mouth further down his mate's dick, getting the whole thing into his mouth and down his talented throat, always grateful for not having to breathe and lacking a gag reflex. It felt like home in his mouth, as if it was personally made for him to suck on. 

Spike knew that Angel had banished every Buffy thought from his mind. He began pushing his head back and forth, letting Angel's cock slide in and out his mouth, loving the way his Sire moaned when he reached and began rubbing the large balls between Angel's thighs. 

One of Angel's big hands went to Spike's head, playing with his groomed hair, mussing it and teasing it back into the curls Spike always tried to tame. Spike didn't have to be told to know that his Sire wanted him to keep going, so Spike happily complied, sucking his dick feverishly, tasting his precum and letting his nose rub into Angel's dark pubic hair each time he swallowed the entire shaft. 

Angel's hips began to thrust reflexively, so Spike let him fuck his mouth, hearing Angel's grunts and moans like a victory symphony. He tugged Angel's jeans down to puddle around his ankles then slipped a hand between the muscular thighs, to his ass crack, wiggling a finger teasingly at his puckered hole, knowing his Sire loved the attention. 

"You're a tease," Angel growled, which Spike took as a challenge, shoving his middle finger deep into the big vampire's ass. Angel bucked and Spike sucked harder. Only a moment later, Angel shouted something inarticulate as his cool cum squirted into the blonde vampire's mouth. 

Spike swallowed greedily, unwilling to give up a single drop. It was a copious load of cum and he drank it down like it was the most delicious thing he'd had in his mouth--and, for many reasons, it was. Angel's thrusting eventually slowed then stopped, and Spike continued to suck his dick as it softened in his mouth. 

Angel suddenly dragged Spike to his feet, kissing him hard, with bruising, dominant force that Spike returned equally. 

Moments later, the pair of vampires were naked and wrestling for superior positions in bed, and this time, it was Angel who won. Angelus topped unless he chose to allow Spike the upper hand, but Angel quite often bottomed for Spike. This time, Angel was aggressively amorous – and the blonde vampire didn't mind when he felt the twinge of pain as his ass stretched to take his Sire's thick dick. 

William was an anal virgin when Sired, so Spike remained virgin tight every time he was fucked, not that he minded. He locked his long, coltish legs around Angel's hips, gazing into the dark, molten orbs as he thrust his hips toward Angel, the big cock sinking deeper and deeper into his ass until it was finally rubbing that place he'd been anticipating, and an almost electrical jolt of pleasure surged through his body. 

Angel stopped pushing, holding his cock still all the way inside Spike's gripping hole, leaning down to kiss him deeply, trapping the slighter vampire's dick between their bodies. 

"Hope you weren't expecting the usual marathon," Angel breathed huskily. "Got that apocalypse to take care of." 

"Sounds like a convenient excuse to me, mate," Spike teased, but he couldn't hold back any better than his Sire. 

They thrust, clutched, kissed and even bit in their urgency until Angel was flooding Spike's bowels and Spike was coating both their abdomens with semen. 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion, Dusk_**

Spike groaned as he woke to the sound of someone banging on his front door. He sat up and noticed he was alone in bed. Angel had returned to L.A. sometime before dawn. Crawling out of bed, Spike dragged his clothes on, cursing the incessant knocking. 

Spike opened the door to find Buffy standing on the other side of the threshold. 

“Don’t you know that vampires typically sleep until dark?” Spike growled, annoyed, garnering a surprised expression from Buffy. Spike shook his head. Clearly, after all these years it still hadn't occurred to Buffy that the world didn’t revolve around her whims. “Never mind. Where’s the trinket?” 

Buffy's expression turned to confusion. “The who-ket?” 

“The pretty necklace Angel gave you. The one with all the power. I believe it’s mine now,” Spike said, holding his hand out for the item. 

“How do you figure?” Buffy asked warily. 

“Someone with a soul, but more than human? Angel meant to wear it, that means I’m the qualified party,” Spike explained. 

“It’s volatile,” Buffy warned. “We don’t know –” 

“You’ll be needing someone strong to bear it, then.” Spike countered, raising a scarred brow. “You planning on giving it to Andrew?” 

Buffy looked at the amulet in her hand, then at Spike. “Angel said the amulet was meant to be worn by a champion.” 

“I think my time spent here and in L.A. over the years more than qualifies me for it then,” Spike countered. 

Buffy stared at him, then at the amulet for so long, Spike didn’t think she’d ever make a decision until she finally handed it to him. 

“My house is crowded and Faith still has my room, so –” Buffy suggested coyly. 

“Well, you’re not staying here. You can’t buy me off with shiny beads and sweet talk. I saw you kiss Angel in the tomb. I’m not just going to give you cold comfort after that. I’ve got my pride, you know,” Spike declined. 

“I understand,” Buffy bowed her head, turning to walk away. 

She got two steps when he said, “You can stay in one of the guest rooms.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Buffy sighed with relief. She turned around, following him inside, closing the door behind her. 

**************************

Buffy woke with a start, looking around the darkened room, but unable to sense anything that might have awakened her, Spike having returned to his room to sleep. She climbed out of bed, searching the room, but discovering nothing unusual there. As she turned to go back to bed, she found her path blocked by the First Evil which appeared in the form of Caleb. 

“You’re not him,” Buffy observed reflexively. 

The First Evil seemed to consider that statement. “No, you killed him right and proper.” The First Evil appeared saddened by the idea. “Terrible loss. This man was my good right arm.” The First Evil grabbed its own right arm then shrugged. “’Course, it don’t pain me too much. I don’t need an arm. I have an army.” 

“An army of vampires. However will I fight –” Buffy began coyly. 

“Every day our numbers swell, but then you do have an army of your own. Some thirty-odd pimply-faced girls, don’t know the pointy end of stake.” The First Evil feigned concern. “Maybe I should call this off.” 

“Have you ever considered a cool name?” Buffy suggested. “I mean, since you’re incorporeal and basically powerless. How about _The Taunter_? Strikes fear in the heart –” 

The First Evil stepped menacingly into Buffy’s personal space. “I will overrun this Earth. And when my army outnumbers the humans on this Earth, the scales will tip and I will be made flesh.” 

“Talk on,” Buffy countered bravely. “I’m not afraid of you.” 

The First Evil rolled its eyes. “Then why aren’t you asleep? ’Cause you know Spike can’t help you, nor Angel, nor Faith, nor your friends, and certainly not your wanna-slay brigade. None of those girlies will ever know real power unless you’re dead. You know the drill —” The First Evil morphed into the mirror image of Buffy and recited, “Into every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world. She alone will have the strength and skill to – oh, wait. There’s that word again. What you are. How you’ll die. Alone.” When Buffy didn’t respond, The First Evil asked, “Where’s your snappy comeback?” 

“You’re right,” Buffy agreed. 

“Hmm. Not your best,” the First Evil commented. 

A knock on the bedroom door startled Buffy, and the First Evil vanished in the blink of an eye. Buffy crossed the room, opening the door to find Spike on the other side. 

“Are you okay, pet? I heard you talking. Bad dream?” he asked. 

“No. Yeah. I just realized something. Something that really never occurred to me before.” When Spike raised his scarred brow in query, Buffy explained, “We’re going to win.” 

**************************

**_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Day_**

The core Scoobies and Faith agreed to meet in the master bedroom commandeered by Faith since she was injured. Currently, Dawn, Xander, Anya and Willow stared incredulously at Buffy who stood to one side of a full-length mirror. 

“What do you think?” Buffy asked apprehensively. 

“That depends,” Xander replied. “Are you in any way – kidding?” 

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” Buffy inquired, looking around the group. 

“It’s pretty radical, B,” Faith remarked from her place on the opposite side of the mirror. 

Giles leaned against the frame of a window. “It’s a lot more than that.” He stood up straight. “Buffy, what you said, it – it flies in the face of everything we’ve ever – every generation has ever done in the fight against evil.” He considered her plan for a moment and smiled. “I think it’s bloody brilliant.” 

Buffy was shocked. She and Giles hadn't been on the best of terms since he returned from England with three Slayerettes in tow. Now, here he was, _agreeing_ with her. “You mean that?” 

“If you want my opinion,” Giles shrugged. 

Buffy nodded. “I really do.” 

Willow held up her hands. “Whoa, hey! Not to poop on the party here, but I’m the guy that’s going to have to pull this thing off.” 

Faith nodded. “It s beaucoup d’mojo.” 

“This goes beyond anything I’ve ever done. It’s a total loss of control, and not in a nice, wholesome ‘my-girlfriend-has-a-pierced-tongue’ kind of way,” Willow blurted. 

Dawn stared at Willow, her mouth agape. Giles looked away, embarrassed, pretending to polish his glasses. Faith snickered. 

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could do it,” Buffy attempted to bolster her. 

“I—I’m not sure that I’m stable enough,” Willow faltered. 

“You can do this, Willow,” Giles encouraged. “We’ll get the coven on the line, and we’ll find out how they can help.” 

“Oh!” Dawn exclaimed, finally catching on to what everyone found so uncomfortable. ‘Pierced tongue.” 

Buffy panicked. “Dawn needs to do a _research thing_.” 

“Yes, you do,” Giles hurriedly agreed. 

Dawn rolled her eyes. “It’s cool.” She rose, leaving the room and mumbling, “Watcher junior to the library.” 

Giles replaced the glasses on his nose, turning to leave. “I’ll go dig up my sources. Quite literally, actually.” He left the room. 

Anya bounced to her feet, dragging Xander up with her. “Come on, let’s go assemble the cannon fodder.” 

“That’s not what we’re calling them, sweetie,” Xander corrected as he left the room. 

“Not to their faces. What, am I insensitive?” Anya asked rhetorically, following him. 

Buffy handed the Scythe over to Willow before leaving the room with Faith. 

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Day_  
**   


Spike used the tunnels to Buffy’s house and was now leaning against the doorjamb between the living room and foyer. Buffy stood in the middle of the room, addressing the Scoobies, and a room full of Potential Slayers.

“I hate this. I hate being here. I hate that you have to be here. I hate that there’s evil, and that I was chosen to fight it. I wish, a whole lot of the time, that I hadn’t been. I know a lot of you wish I hadn’t been either.” Two of the Potentials – Kennedy and Rona – had the decency to look away, ashamed. “But this isn’t about wishes. This is about choices. I believe we can beat this evil. Not when it comes, not when its army is ready, now. Tomorrow morning, I am opening the seal. I’m going down into the Hellmouth, and I’m finishing this once and for all. Right now you’re asking yourself, ‘What makes this different? What makes us anything more than a bunch of girls being picked off one by one?’ It’s true none of you have the power that Faith and I do. So, here’s the part where you make a choice.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School, Basement, Day_  
**   


Faith and Robin were moving furniture around.

“It’s one hell of a risky idea,” Robin was saying as he shifted a file cabinet.

“Buffy’s wacky that way,” Faith observed.

“Yeah,” Robin conceded, positioning the cabinet against a wall. “There’s one more vent right by the stairs. We block that, they got no sewer access, should drive them straight up into the school proper.”

“That’s assuming they get past us,” Faith added, scouting around for another file cabinet.

“Which, no offense, I am,” Robin joked.

“Come on, you gotta have a little faith,” she enjoined without thinking.

“I think I’ve had my share, thanks,” Robin muttered under his breath.

“Wow, I trundled right into that one, didn’t I?” Faith asked, embarrassed. “Look, I’m sorry if it seemed like I was blowing you off the other day. I was just trying to, you know, blow you off.”

“Yeah, you know what, I figured that one out all by myself,” Robin replied sarcastically.

“It’s nothing personal,” Faith explained. “It’s just after I get bouncy with a guy, there’s not that much more I need to know about him.”

“That’s bleak,” Robin commented.

“It’s the way of the world,” Faith said.

“That’s good to know ’cause for a second there I thought it was more defensive, isolationist Slayer crap,” Robin shrugged.

“And he comes out swinging,” Faith laughed mirthlessly.

“Faith, there’s a whole world out there that you don’t even know about, and a lot of the men in it are pretty decent guys. They’d surprise you,” Robin extolled.

Faith shrugged. “A guy looks at me, let’s just say his priorities shift.”

“Why, because you’re so hot?” Robin asked.

“It is what it is,” Faith replied.

“Oh please,” Robin waved her off. “I am **so** much prettier than you are. Oh, and, uh, for the record, our little encounter didn’t exactly change my world.”

Faith looked taken aback, followed by a look of determination to prove herself. “You’re tripping! That was rock ’em, sock ’em!”

“No, no, no, no. It was – it was – it was nice enough, you know, and you’re – you’re very, um – mm, enthused, and I think with a little more experience –”

“Dude!” Faith cut him off. “I got mad skills.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin agreed patronizingly, moving to a cabinet. “Let’s finish up.”

“No, hell with that! We’re going again, baby,” Faith said, starting to unbuckle her belt. “You’re gonna learn a little respect here, pal.”

“Faith –” he chuckled at her display. “Make me a deal, all right? We live through this, you give me the chance to surprise you.”

Faith looked at him skeptically. “What would be the surprise?”

Robin raised a brow at her. “You do know the meaning of the word, right?”

Faith considered it and buckled her belt. “Fine. Deal.”

“Good enough,” Robin said, returning to his task.

“No way you’re prettier than me,” Faith grumbled.

“A little bit, yeah.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence, Night_  
**   


Willow and Kennedy were in her room, working on the spell to help the Slayers. Giles, Xander, Andrew, and Amanda were playing D&D in the kitchen where Anya had fallen asleep at the table beside Xander.

Buffy was sitting alone on her front porch, gazing up at the night sky, reminiscing about all of the other times she'd spent on this porch – and how this could well be the last time. When it got too chilly, she went back inside the house, and down to the basement, which seemed to be the only place Spike could go where the girls didn’t bother him when he was over for meetings. They'd agreed it was best to have him stay the night since they had a big day tomorrow.

She descended the stairs to find Spike sitting on a cot she had set up for him. He held the amulet out in front of him, letting it dangle from its chain, staring thoughtfully at it. He caught her movement and rose when he saw her coming toward him.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School, Day_  
**   


The front drive of the high school was littered with papers and boxes discarded as staff abandoned the campus. A couple of crashed cars lent to the atmosphere of desolation. Robin Wood led Faith, Dawn, Giles, and the others, into the main building of the high school, the atmosphere charged with a sense of purpose.

“Welcome to Sunnydale High,” Robin announced, as if instructing a class on a field trip. “There’s no running in the halls, no yelling, no gum chewing. Apart from that, there’s only one rule.” He stopped and turned to look at the crowd. “If they move, kill them.”

Buffy took over, delivering orders like a general. “Okay, Potentials, in the basement! Follow Faith and Spike.”

Faith and Spike moved in the direction of the basement with the Potentials following.

“If you have to go to the bathroom, it’s to your left,” Xander announced. “If you don’t have to go to the bathroom, picture what you’re about to face. Better to go now.”

“Willow, my office is straight through there,” Robin told her, pointing in the direction Faith and Spike went.

“It’s right over the seal,” Buffy added.

“I’ll start getting you set up,” Kennedy volunteered, taking the bag Willow carried with her, heading for the office.

“Okay, civilians,” Robin said. “If the vampires get upstairs, we have three areas they could get through to another building and then down into the sewers. Down the hall in the atrium, the north hall here, and the primary target, through the lounge straight to the science building. Now odds are: most of them will head there.”

“Teams of two then,” Giles observed then addressed Robin, “I suggest you and I take the lounge.”

“I concur,” Robin agreed.

“Xander, I want you with Dawn,” Buffy ordered.

“I concur,” Xander agreed.

“We’ll check out the atrium,” Dawn inserted, as if she were volunteering.

“So that leaves me and the dungeon master in the north hall?” Anya asked.

“We will defend it with our very lives,” Andrew avowed.

“Yes, we will defend it with _his_ very life,” Anya reiterated.

“And don’t be afraid to use him as a human shield,” Xander suggested flippantly.

“Good, yes, thanks,” Anya nodded, liking the idea.

“I just want to say how proud I am to die for this very special cause with you guys,” Andrew announced as he took a piece of paper out of his pocket and began reading as if he was preparing to thank the Academy and all of the little people. “There’s some, um – there’s people I’d like to thank, both good and evil. Um, a shout out to my brother, Tucker, who gave me the inspiration to summon demons and also –”

“Nobody cares, you little monkey,” Anya cut him off, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to the north hall.

“I’m going to check out our field of engagement.” Dawn started walking in the opposite direction.

“Dawn –” Buffy stopped her with the word.

Dawn turned to face her, expression resolute. “No. Anything you say is gonna sound like goodbye.” She turned again, walking away.

Buffy stepped over to the small group still standing in a semi-circle in the hallway. The original three friends, and the Slayer's Watcher stared at each other in emotion-laden silence until Buffy abruptly broke the stillness.

“So, what do you guys want to do tomorrow?” she asked casually.

“Nothing strenuous,” Willow suggested.

“Well, mini-golf is always the first thing that comes to mind,” Xander offered.

Giles scoffed. “I think we can do better than that.”

“I was thinking about shopping. As per usual,” Buffy remarked.

“Oh! There’s an Arden B. in the new mall!” Willow exclaimed happily.

“I could use a few items,” Xander shrugged in deference to the mall idea.

“Well, now aren’t we going to discuss this? Save the world to go to the mall?” Giles found it to be a strange turn of events.

“I’m having a wicked shoe craving,” Buffy continued as if she hadn’t heard a word Giles said.

“Aren’t you on the patch?” Xander quipped.

“Those never work,” Willow replied.

“Here I am, invisible,” Giles harrumphed.

Xander, Willow, and Buffy walked down the hall together, away from Giles.

“See, I need a new look,” Xander was saying, “It’s this whole eye patch thing.”

“Oh, you could go with full black secret agent look,” Buffy suggested.

“Or the puffy shirt and pirate sash,” Willow proffered.

Giles watched them for a moment before turning to walk away. “The Earth is definitely doomed.”

Buffy, Xander, and Willow walked down the hall together in solemn silence, their banter abandoned. When they passed the principal’s office, Willow broke away, going inside. Xander and Buffy continued walking until they passed a corridor where Xander spontaneously took Buffy’s hand, giving it a squeeze before walking down the hall, leaving the Slayer alone.

Buffy continued along to the basement by herself.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Basement, Day_  
**   


Buffy joined Faith and the Potentials in the basement room where the Seal of Danzalthar was set into the bedrock. They formed a circle around the edge of the seal, Buffy standing beside Faith.

“You first, B,” Faith said, handing her a knife.

Buffy sighed with determination, taking the knife from Faith. She made a thin slice on the palm of her hand, waiting for the blood to well before returning the knife to Faith. Faith cut her palm then the blade circulated until every Potential also bore a self-inflicted wound. They held out their injured hands over the seal, turning them down so that their blood rained down upon the seal, activating it. The seal opened like a carnivorous metal flower then sank into the ground, opening a staircase into the Hellmouth.

Buffy descended first, followed by Faith and Spike. The other girls silently filed in after.

**************************

_Sunnydale, High School Principal’s Office, Day_   


Willow sat on the floor of the Principal’s office, a semi-circle of lit white candles arranged before her, and other candles burned throughout the room. Sitting across from the redheaded witch, Kennedy watched Willow intently.

“They should be in place,” Willow surmised, sitting back with her hands on her knees. “Okay, magic time. You ready to, heh heh, kill me?”

“Starting to be,” Kennedy said nervously.

“Good. Fun. Great,” Willow took a breath. “Brace yourself.”

“Come on, Red,” Kennedy whispered encouragingly. “Make it happen.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Hellmouth, Day_  
**   


Buffy, Spike and Faith led the Potentials deep into the cavern beneath the basement.

Spike examined the amulet around his neck. “Not to be a buzz kill, luv, but my fabulous accessory isn’t exactly tingling with power.”

Buffy was inwardly psyching herself up as she examined her surroundings. “I’m not worried.”

“I’m getting zero juice here, and I look like Elizabeth Taylor,” Spike continued.

“Cheer up, Liz,” Faith encouraged. “Willow’s big spell doesn’t work, it won’t matter what you wear.”

Buffy, Faith, Spike and the others walked toward the edge of a cliff where they could see thousands upon thousands of Turok-Han below them on the floor of the Hellmouth.

“I’m not worried,” Buffy repeated, more to bolster herself.

The Turok-Han were forming a swarming mob below them, like monstrous ants. Spike took a step back, not liking scenario one bit.

“I’m not worried,” Buffy insisted, in a mantra.

“Really? ’Cause I’m flashing back to Xander’s whole bathroom speech,” Rona said.

“Buffy –” Amanda began, frightened.

“I’m not worried – as long as Willow can work her spell before they –” Just then, the Turok-Han looked up at Buffy and the girls. “See us.”

Suddenly, the snarling Turok-Han army rushed towards the cliff where Buffy and the group were positioned along the edge. As they advanced, Buffy stood unflinching, holding her ground.

“Willow,” Buffy beseeched under her breath.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Principal’s Office, Day_  
**   


Willow chanted arcane words, her hands upon the Scythe lying on the floor before her when power and light exploded in and around her. She looked up in exhilarated surprise, her hair billowing around her ecstatic face, glowing as white-hot as the Scythe.

“Oh – my – Goddess,” Willow gasped breathlessly.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Hellmouth, Day_  
**   


The mass of Turok-Hand rushed toward Buffy and the Potentials as they stood on the cliff awaiting the imminent battle.

“These guys are dust,” Vi declared, suddenly confident.

The Turok-Han army rushed at Buffy’s group. The blonde Slayer fought them off with kicks and punches, but the other Potentials suddenly became aware of the same strength flooding through their veins now.

Vi jumped and kicked a Turok-Han to the ground. Rona punched a Turok-Han in the face, knocking it down. Faith fought off another fanged horror as Amanda staked a Turok-Han through the heart. Vi beheaded her Turok-Hand opponent.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Principal’s Office, Day_  
**   


Kennedy smiled at the power coursing through her body, looking around as if seeing the world with new eyes, but stopped in amazement when she observed Willow, still lit up by brilliant white energy.

“Willow?” Kennedy queried in cautious disbelief.

Willow’s red hair had gone completely white, and she continued glowing with the light of the spell – her face consumed by divine ecstasy as she gazed heavenward. Willow panted as the power raced through her, but when the Scythe stopped glowing, so did she. Willow’s hair returned to its natural ginger and she bowed weakly, her strength sapped by the power of the spell.

“You – are a goddess,” Kennedy proclaimed.

Willow smiled weakly. “And you’re a Slayer. Get this to Buffy.” She handed the Scythe to Kennedy, who took it without hesitation, dashing from the office.

Panting, as if from an arduous race, Willow remained sitting on the floor a moment longer then collapsed on the floor with a goofy smile.

“That was nifty!” she exclaimed deliriously.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Hellmouth, Day_  
**   


Buffy determinedly battled the Turok-Han that swiftly outnumbered her group. Faith, Spike, and the Potentials also continued to fight without any consideration to what odds they faced. Kennedy dashed into the cavern, carrying the Scythe and seeking the blonde Slayer through the chaos.

“Buffy! Catch!” Kennedy shouted, hurling the weapon toward Buffy.

Buffy caught the Scythe with a single, smooth motion, waging swift and bloody slaughter upon the Turok-Han closest to her, dust swirling about her. A Turok-Han lunged at Kennedy, who fought it off with assurance and power, now.

“I could get used to this,” Kennedy remarked to herself.

The group was unable to keep up with the endless number of Turok-Han coming for them, despite their fighting prowess. Vi went after one Turok-Han with more intensity than she had ever displayed before while Buffy used the Scythe to behead another. As their numbers increased, some of Turok-Han were able to get past Buffy’s group, through the doorway, into the school.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


Andrew and Anya were defending an exit together, each holding a sword.

“I think they’re coming,” Andrew unnecessarily announced, hiding behind Anya.

“Oh, God. I’m terrified. I didn’t think. I mean, I—I just figured you’d be terrified, and I would be sarcastic about it,” Anya told him, starting to freak out.

“Picture happy things; a lake, candy canes--bunnies,” Andrew suggested.

Anya's expression shed the fear, replaced with revulsion and rage at the thought of, “Bunnies! Floppy, hoppy--” she raised her sword, looking forward to the imminent attack, “ _bunnies_!”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


In another part of the school, Giles and Robin defended another exit together. The Turok-Han flooded the hallways far outnumbering Robin and Giles who still managed to hold their own. Giles sliced one of the Turok-Han across the neck as Robin punched and kicked them.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


Anya fought valiantly as the Turok-Han entered her corridor, Andrew backing away as one of their number rushed him, snarling.

“I have swimmer’s ear!” Andrew yelled as the Turok-Han pushed him into the wall while Anya dusted two of them in a row.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Hellmouth, Day_  
**   


Spike was fighting off Turok-Han alongside the others when he suddenly stepped back, looking down at the amulet around his neck. He touched the amulet, but it burned his hand, which he jerked back reflexively.

“Buffy!” Spike yelled over the din of fighting. “Whatever this thing does, I think it’s –” he moaned in pain.

“Keep the line together!” Buffy called to the other girls. “Drive them to the edge! We can’t let them do—”

Buffy looked down, surprised to see the tip of a sword protruding from her abdomen. The Turok-Han that had stabbed her, yanked the sword free and turned to attack another girl. Buffy stumbled forward in disbelief then collapsed, face first, on the cavern floor.

Faith and the other girls were still battling the Turok-Han when Faith turned, noticing the blonde Slayer lying on the ground.

“Buffy!” Faith yelled apprehensively, dashing to her sister-Slayer’s side.

Buffy braced herself on her elbows. “Hold the line,” she ordered weakly, handing off the Scythe to Faith. The brunette Slayer's face grew taut with anger and determination, and she spun away from Buffy, swinging the Scythe in a wide arc, returning to the fray with a vengeance while Buffy gasped, collapsing again.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


Xander and Dawn stood guard at their own exit as the Turok-Han charged toward them, and although Dawn brandished a sword, she held back from the fight as Xander engaged the demons, head-on. He managed to hold them back, but he was having no luck pressing an advantage to killing them, and was tiring when Dawn sprang forward, grabbing a dangling rope and giving it a hard pull, dropping a sandbag and opening a skylight, flooding the room with sunlight, causing the Turok-Hand to burst into flame and turn to dust before them.

“We call that the greenhouse effect,” Xander quipped, self-satisfied. “Very dangerous —”

Another Turok-Han attacked Xander, interrupting him, knocking him to the floor. Dawn jumped in to help fight it off.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


Bringers forced their way to the fight, attacking Andrew, and Anya gamely fought them off, but ultimately there were too many. In one horrible instant, while she ran one through with her sword, another sliced diagonally through her torso from behind, killing her.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


Another group of Bringers discovered Giles and Robin, and during their pitched battle, one managed to thrust a sword into Robin's abdomen. Giles killed the Bringer that attacked Robin with his right hand while catching Robin over his left arm as the man pitched toward the Watcher.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Hellmouth, Day_  
**   


Spike was battling the Turok-Han alongside Faith and the others when a smaller band of the demons singled out Faith.

“Rona!” Faith shouted pain, hurling the Scythe to the girl.

Rona immediately swung the Scythe, mowing down Turok-Han like ripened wheat in a field. Buffy lay upon the cavern floor, wounded, bleeding, gazing into Amanda's shocked, staring eyes as the girl fell near her, dead. Suddenly, the First Evil appeared before Buffy, mirroring the blonde Slayer's form, down to the wound in her abdomen.

“Oh no –” The entity looked down at Buffy’s wound reflected on its own body. “Ow! Mommy, this mortal wound is all – itchy. You pulled a nice trick. You came pretty close to smacking me down. What more do you want?”

Buffy grit her teeth, enraged by the chameleon's mockery of the death it sowed among the Slayers. “I want you –” She sat up, clearly surprising the First. “To get out of my face.”

Rona spotted Buffy rising to her feet and threw the Scythe to her. Turning end over end, it sailed over the heads of the combatants, finding Buffy's hand like a bird of prey alighting on its handler's glove and she followed through on the motion with a powerful swing, knocking three Turok-Han off the cliff in the single blow.

Rallied by Buffy's return to the fight, Faith also found renewed strength, kicking her assailants from the ledge, mimicked by one of the Potentials. Vi took out one after another, after another, and Kennedy disarmed one while dusting another. Buffy knocked one off the cliff, killing another with the Scythe.

Gasping, Spike stumbled backward, away from the battle, clutching at his chest, then at his burned hand.

“Oh, bollocks,” Spike cursed as a bright blue light shot up from the amulet, punching a hole through the ceiling, up through the floor of the principal’s office, past Willow and into the open sky beyond. The light suffused with a hot, golden-orange color. “Buffy!”

“Spike!” Buffy shouted back, but before she could get to him, the amulet refracted the searing orange light out into the cavern, like magnified rays of sunshine – but with the concentrated intensity of a massive laser. Dumbfounded, Buffy stared at Spike as the amulet worked its devastating magic, the Turok-Han exploding in dust throughout the Hellmouth.

The ground began violently quaking.

“Everybody out, now!” Faith shouted the order to the girls, who rushed to the stairs leading up to the seal. Instead of following, Buffy hurried to Spike’s side.

“I can feel it, Buffy,” Spike declared in amazement.

“What?” Buffy asked, her eyes wide and wet, not knowing what he meant.

Suffused with light, Spike turned his gaze to her. “My soul. It’s really there." He gave a rueful smile. "Kind of stings.”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


The girls dashed out of the basement, up to the hallway, passing Andrew, a Bringer hovering over him. In a moment it fell away from him, revealing Andrew’s sword in its chest.

Andrew stared in shock at what he’d done. “What – why?” One of the retreating Potentials hauled Andrew to his feet, pulling him along with her.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


At another exit, Giles was helping a wounded Robin walk. The quaking increased, chunks of the building collapsing around them, and through the dust rising in the air, they spotted the school bus sitting out front.

“The bus,” Robin indicated painfully. “Get them on the bus.”

Giles made sure Robin could still stand on his own, after a fashion, before he let go, yelling at the girls who were fleeing from the shaking building, “Everybody, this way!”

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


In the hallway outside the principal’s office, Kennedy was helping a weakened Willow make her way out of the building while Xander and Dawn maintained unsteady footing on the bucking floors, dodging falling beams and ceiling tiles. In the din and dust boiling around them, Xander shouted for Anya until he was hoarse.

“Anya! Anya!” A large beam collapsed into the hallway and he missed spotting her lifeless body lying beside a small heap of rubble as Dawn pulled him relentlessly toward the exit.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Hellmouth, Day_  
**   


Still down in the Hellmouth, Buffy and Spike stood together. Spike burning brightly with power produced by the amulet, continuing to blast rays of destructive, cleansing light throughout the formerly dark pit of the Hellmouth. Buffy stood before him, staring at the golden vampire in awe, unconsciously clutching her Scythe.

“Go on, then,” Spike told her. “Tell Angel I know what it feels like now.”

“You can tell him yourself. You’ve done enough,” Buffy insisted. “You could still –”

“No, you’ve beat them back, it’s for me to do the cleanup,” Spike argued.

The cavern walls began crumbling around them.

“Buffy, come on!” Faith yelled from the opening of the seal.

“Gotta move, lamb. I think it’s fair to say school’s out for bloody summer,” Spike quipped with an affectionate, ironic smile.

“Spike!” Buffy yelled over the earthquake.

“I mean it! I gotta do this,” Spike held out his hand to stop her advancement toward him. “Tell Angel – thanks for everything.”

Buffy took a step closer, heedless of the potential danger of the power pouring off of him, lacing her fingers with Spike's – and flames enveloped their joined hands. Spike looked down in wonder, because their flesh didn't burn, then he raised his eyes to Buffy's and saw that they were brimming with pride – and tears.

“I love you,” Buffy declared softly.

Spike graced her with his patented smirk. “No, you don’t – but thanks for saying it.” Suddenly, another earthquake rocked the foundation, shaking loose Buffy's grip on Spike's hand, and the flame went out. “Now go!” He ordered, and after a second more of hesitation, she did, hurrying up the stone steps and out through the seal. “I want to see how it ends,” he told her retreating form.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School, Day_  
**   


The school building began its shuddering, explosive collapse into the Hellmouth beneath it. Faith ran out of the cloud of smoke and debris belching from the front doors, leaping through the open doors of the bus which careened away from the school with all the survivors – with the painful exception of Spike and Buffy.

Frantic with worry, Dawn searched desperately out of the back window of the bus, for any sign of her sister.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, High School Hallway, Day_  
**   


Buffy ran through the school hallway, still carrying the Scythe, deftly avoiding debris as the recently constructed building crumbled around her. She discovered the exit blocked by concrete and quickly altered her escape route, dashing upstairs, heading for the roof.

**************************

**  
_Sunnydale, Hellmouth, Day_  
**   


Spike stood like a fiery statue in the crumbling Hellmouth, light burning down on him, turning his body into a funeral pyre while he grinned hugely, as if in the throes of hysterical amusement at the greatest joke in the world – which happened to be on him. The magnified sunlight finally began to destroy the blonde vampire, searing him to dust bit by bit – first his skin singed, then his muscles, then his bones –

And then he was gone.

Roaring with inanimate power and fury, the Hellmouth collapsed around Spike and the light winked out.

**************************

**  
_Los Angeles, Wolfram and Hart, Penthouse Suite_  
**   


Fred and Lorne insisted on helping Angel move into his office suite. Both were certain that if they didn't lend a hand he'd create some kind of medieval man-cave focused obsessively on the color, black. Fred busily dusted while Lorne waxed incessant about all things related to interior design.

“I’m just saying that you should have deep reds and natural wood. It suits you,” Lorne encouraged. Failing to receive even a monosyllabic insult in reply, he turned to look at the dark haired vampire.

Angel collapsed on the floor, clutching his chest. A monstrous pain seared through him, rooted deep in his soul. Something horrible and unprecedented was happening. He’d never experienced such all-consuming pain; not when he was in Hell, not even when Buffy killed him. This cleaving agony surpassed anything he’d yet experienced.

Realizing something was wrong, Fred turned from her dusting, dropping the duster when she saw Angel's condition, running to his side. “Angel! What is it? What's wrong?”

Recovering from his immobilizing shock, Lorne joined Fred on the other side of Angel as the vampire moaned hopelessly, grabbing at his chest as if he were having a heart attack.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Lorne shouted, trying to break through the wall of pain currently blocking them from Angel's perspective, but when Fred reached out to touch him, Angel growled at her like a wounded animal, his demonic visage shifting to the fore, causing Fred to squeak in alarm, scrambling back. Even Lorne lurched backward, momentarily surprised by the sudden shift.

“Angel?” Fred whispered worriedly, receiving a harsh growl of suffering as the scorching pain suffused his entire body, as if every nerve ending was on fire, consuming him.

“SPIKE!” Angel finally snarled in physical and soulful agony.

**************************

**  
_Outside Sunnydale, School Bus, Day_  
**   


Those Potentials who were less injured ministered to the worst injured survivors on the speeding school bus. Vi tended to Rona’s wounds while Xander saw to Chao Ahn’s injuries.

Vi grabbed Rona’s chin, shaking her and shouting into her face, “Look at me! This is nothing! Stay awake! This is nothing!”

Andrew sat in another seat, statue-still, looking dazed and in shock. “Why didn’t I die?” he wondered aloud, but nobody answered him.

Desperately searching out the back window of the bus for her sister, Dawn finally spotted Buffy running along rooftops, pursuing the bus as it sped along the crumbling road. Her heart leapt in her throat as she watched the slim, determined shape leaping from rooftop to rooftop as buildings shattered and collapsed behind her, never realizing how fast and powerful her sister was – or how small and vulnerable.

The collapsing city was like a ravenous, gargantuan beast pursuing the Slayer as she tried to catch up with the bus. At last she ran out of rooftops and leapt into space without hesitation, still clutching the Scythe like a talisman of power and luck – and that luck prevailed as she landed atop the bus then turned to watch as the entire town of Sunnydale shuddered and collapsed in on itself, disappearing into the desert.

Faith watched out the rear window until she thought they'd passed the point of imminent danger, calling to Robin, “Ease off. We’re clear.”

The bus screeched to a halt, Buffy still clinging to the top, and Robin Wood, who'd been driving despite his serious wounds, turned off the ignition, leaning back in the driver's seat with a sigh of relief.

Outside the bus, Buffy jumped down off the top of the vehicle, looking around in dismayed wonder at the carnage wrought upon Sunnydale. Dawn opened the emergency exit door at the back of the bus, jumping out and rushing to give Buffy a tight, grateful hug.

Giles was out of the bus too, examining the carter with disbelief then casting an eye to the road behind them. “I don’t understand. Who did this?”

“Spike,” Buffy replied simply, her tone carrying a weight of gratitude for his sacrifice that further words would only cheapen.

As those who were able to get off of the bus did so, slowly approaching the place where Giles, Buffy, and Dawn stood, the blonde Slayer walked away from them a few feet, toward the massive sinkhole where the ruins of what had been Sunnydale lay at the bottom of a cavern that yawned for miles. The ‘WELCOME TO SUNNYDALE’ sign managed to cling precariously to the edge of the canyon for a few more seconds before teetering then toppling backward into the pit that used to be its proclaimed destination.

Xander approached Andrew as the young man cautiously stepped off the bus as if he didn't trust the ground, or his legs, to support him. “So, did you see?”

Andrew, his pale face a mask of guilt and shock, couldn't look at Xander and tell him what Xander needed to hear. “I—I was scared. I’m sorry.”

“ _Did_ you see what happened?” Xander repeated firmly. “I mean, was she –?” as if he held out a slim hope that Anya could have survived out of her sheer stubbornness.

Andrew gathered himself, finally summoning the courage to look at Xander. “She was incredible. She died saving my life.”

After a moment in which part of his heart broke and another part laughed at the irony he knew Anya would have pointed out in her sacrifice, Xander laid a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, nodding his acceptance. “That’s my girl. Always doing the stupid thing.”

And Andrew understood what he meant, managing the smallest of apologetic smiles as Xander walked away from him, toward Buffy, because this was one of many endings, and being at her side at an ending always managed to bring him full circle during these apocalypses.

Inside the school bus, Faith approached Robin Wood, who had slumped over in the driver’s seat as if any fight remaining to him was draining away with the blood on his shirt.

“It’s not bad," Faith insisted, a strained note in her voice. "You just sit here. I’ll get someone to –” she turned to find someone to help, but Robin stopped her.

“Hey – did we – did we make it?” Robin asked quietly.

Faith knelt in front of him, so that she was eye-to-eye with him. “We made it. We won,” she told him earnestly.

Robin smiled at that, even managing a weak laugh, but as he gazed at Faith his gaze grew distant, unfocused, sound and smile fading until even his breath stopped and he stilled. Faith frowned, initially thinking he'd say more, but when she accepted he wouldn't take another breath, she reached toward him, intending to close his eyelids over his unseeing eyes.

Suddenly, Robin coughed, sputtering a moment before giving her a weak, but triumphant smile. “Surprise,” Robin teased hoarsely.

Faith let out a sigh of relief, and even smiled at his truly poor sense of humor. When Vi appeared beside them, Faith allowed the redhead to take over tending to Robin's injury as the brunette Slayer stepped off the bus and went to join the others who were gathering a short distance from Sunnydale's grave.

Buffy continued staring at the crater she'd called home for seven years, memories tumbling over each other in her mind. There was a brief pang when she thought of her mother down there, but that quickly faded. It was all a grave now, and Buffy'd been to Heaven, or something very closely resembling it, and she knew that was really where Joyce Summers currently hung her halo, or hat – Buffy wondered if they could have hats in Heaven. She hadn't really had time to ask anyone. She sensed Dawn standing beside her while Giles, Xander, Willow and even Faith joined them to contemplate where they'd been and where they might go, from there.

“Looks like the Hellmouth is officially closed for business,” Faith proclaimed.

“There is another one in Cleveland,” Giles blurted, realizing he was putting his foot in again and adding softly, “Not to spoil the moment.” He collected a rock from the desert soil, tossing it into the crater.

“We saved the world,” Xander observed with an awestruck tone.

“We _changed_ the world.” Willow corrected him, going to Buffy’s side. “I can _feel_ them, Buffy. All over. Slayers are awakening everywhere.”

“We’ll have to find them,” Dawn declared.

“We will,” Willow assured her.

Giles paced behind them. “Yes, because the mall was actually _in_ Sunndale, so there’s no hope of going there tomorrow.”

“We destroyed the mall?” Dawn asked with melodramatic despair. “I fought on the wrong side.”

“All those shops gone,” Xander observed. “The Gap, Starbucks, Toys “R” Us. Who will remember all those landmarks unless we tell the world about them?”

“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” Giles interrupted the moment before complete silliness took hold.

Faith turned to Willow. “Can I push him in?”

“You have my vote,” Willow heartily agreed.

“I just want to sleep, yo, for like a week,” Faith continued.

“I guess we all could, if we wanted to,” Dawn postulated.

“Yeah,” Willow smiled brightly. “The First is scrunched, so – what do you think we should do, Buffy?”

“Yeah, you’re not the one and only Chosen anymore,” Faith teased. “Just gotta live like a person. How’s that feel?”

“Yeah, Buffy. What are we going to do now?” Dawn chimed in, starting to nag her sister as if already forgetting the catastrophe they'd barely averted – and survived.

Buffy continued to gaze at the crater in the desert as a hot, arid breeze played with her hair, as if it attempted to draw her back from the edge in an invitation to tag along with it and see what lay outside the world of Sunnydale, L.A., California – and even farther. And while the others around her continued to banter animatedly, she listened to the wind, contemplating all of the amazing things that could come next – and Buffy smiled. 

**************************

**_Los Angeles, Wolfram and Hart, Penthouse Suite_**

_“He hasn’t moved or said a word since he morphed and screamed Spike’s name,”_ Fred’s voice carried to Angel’s ears like distant clatter from an underground train. 

He lay in bed on his back, dark, lifeless eyes staring blindly up at the pristine ceiling that was woefully lacking in the interesting cracks and stains decorating the ceiling of his room at the Hyperion. 

_“Hell of a time to freeze up, just as we’re taking over Wolfram and Hart. I don’t think the Senior Partners had a catatonic CEO in mind when they handed over this place,”_ Gunn added. 

Angel didn’t acknowledge he heard Gunn’s negative remarks either. The single thing burning in his fevered mind was Spike – burning. He _had_ burned, he knew it, had _felt_ it even as it was happening to his mate. The sensation was worse than waking in a tub of ice to discover some fiend had cut out your kidney, or cut off an arm or a leg. It was as if the Powers That Be dangled Spike in front of him for decades, like a golden carrot, and just as he bent to their will – ripping him away like cruel children, leaving him beat and torn, shattered and tossed, and worn – he realized it was the lyrics from a Cat Stevens song and didn't care. Misery need music to which his tortured soul could scream – or weep. Probably both. 

Wesley’s voice managed to make itself heard over the symphony of pain playing in Angel's ears. _“I just got a call from Giles. They're looking for all of the Slayers who were activated by a spell Willow cast to battle the First and the horde of Turok-Han. He said that Sunnydale is gone, nothing but rubble at the bottom of a crater, completely destroyed in the battle. He said Spike was some kind of hero – but – he didn't make it out. Spike gave his life – for everyone.”_

Angel's staring eyes closed against the reality of Wesley's confirmation and he wished he could close his ears too. 

_“Oh God,”_ Fred choked, her voice filled to overflowing with aching sympathy. 

**_This is the end of Book 4, Book 5 is coming soon, hopefully you'll stick with me through Angel/Spike's relationship's ups and downs to come._**


	23. How to Treat Your Lover Book 4 Soundtrack Available

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline - (Angel: The Series, Season 4/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)  
> Summary – With both Angel and Cordelia still missing, Fred and Gunn try to keep Angel Investigations running while they search for their friends. Ironically, the man everyone believes betrayed Angel is the one who finally comes to Angel's rescue. Then, as suddenly as she had vanished, Cordelia inexplicably reappears with no recollection of her life or her friends. Unbeknownst to the team, things aren’t always what they appear. Even as Cordelia regains her memory, she harbors a secret that will change their lives forever. Finally, Spike returns from his sojourn abroad with his gift to Angel that leaves him mentally unstable. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Dawn starts her sophomore year at the new Sunnydale High School with a mysterious new principal that may shake things up. Oh, and there's an apocalypse a'comin' on two fronts. Angel(us)/Spike; Buffy. Rated NC-17

Below is the front and back covers of the soundtrack for Book 4 and links to download the zip file of songs used in Book 4 of the saga. Cover art was created by me. I know the descriptions on the download pages all say Book 4 Disc 1, Book 4 Disc 2, Book 4 Disc 3, but the .zip FILES you are downloading are correct (H2TYLBK4D1, H2TYLBK4D2, H2TYLBK4D3).

 

**[Download from sendspace.com](https://www.sendspace.com/file/1m4gcm) **

**[Download from sendspace.com](https://www.sendspace.com/file/ea56i7) **

**[Download from sendspace.com](https://www.sendspace.com/file/yusny6) **


End file.
